


For you, I will

by An_ElvenBeauty



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Adorable Connor, Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Androids, Anxiety Disorder, Bottom Connor, Character Development, Connor Deserves Happiness, Detectives, Detroit Police Department (Detroit: Become Human), Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Gay Male Character, Hank Anderson Swears, Hank Anderson is Bad at Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Investigations, Mind Manipulation, Multi, Murder, Murder Mystery, Poor Connor, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Connor, Protective Hank Anderson, Rebellion, Top Hank Anderson, Trust Issues, Worried Hank Anderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:55:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29237187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/An_ElvenBeauty/pseuds/An_ElvenBeauty
Summary: "Whatever happened here on this dreadful night, officers would like the public to know that this android has not yet been contained. There are active searches occurring at this very moment and they are doing all they can to capture and eliminate this failed prototype."⦾Hank was sure he must be the only cop in the damn world.The one who hated androids the most- with reason- was assigned to the case of eliminating a psycho android mafia leader? Peachy.What could go wrong with that scenario?Accepting the case was a struggle, finding the deviant was unfeasible; and not falling for that gentle, misunderstood, coin-flipping android was nearly impossible.
Relationships: Connor & Gavin Reed, Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & North (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & Original Android Character(s) (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 13
Kudos: 27





	1. You're on the case, lieutenant

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first DBH fic and I've had the idea in my head for awhile now :) Mafia!Au where Connor becomes deviant early on for an unknown reason and turns bad- mwahaha. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy ♡ updates will hopefully be regular though it depends on my work schedule!

_November 2nd, 2038…_

"Keeping up with our continuous coverage of the _savage_ Cyberlife attack is Joss Douglas- who is at the very spot where _seven_ Cyberlife employees were shot dead in the process of manufacturing their latest prototype." 

_Had it comin'..._

Hank took a drink, sitting slouched against his armchair and flicking aimlessly through the channels on his tv. The same shit over and over. Androids _this._ Androids _that._ He was getting real fucking sick of hearing that damn word. Whatever this _prototype_ was, it seemed they'd gone too far this time. The damn thing turned on them. Now that they were capable of fuckin _killing_ people- much less _seven-_ Hank was ready to call it quits on the whole android fiasco. 

"The model…-" 

Hank stood up with a sigh, tuning out the reporters words and stumbled his way to the kitchen for the third time that night. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, popping the cap and threw bottoms up. He thought about grabbing food- 

_Eh._

Hank walked back to the television room and flopped down sluggishly against his chair. He took another drink, looking back to the tv. He caught a brief glimpse of the scene at Cyberlife. Police tape, sirens, lights. All too familiar. He did momentarily wonder what the actual crime scene looked like. 

Could an android really kill _seven_ people? Hank supposed they did say it was a prototype. Specially made for something. He wondered what. 

"Here with me is a Cyberlife security guard- Tony Forester- a first witness to the utter _tragedy_ that occurred." 

Hank watched the camera switch to a younger man and he sucked down some more beer. _Jesus._

The guard had splatters of blood across his dark face and he looked as if he was still in shock. Hank listened curiously as Tony began to speak. 

"I was outside the room- me and my partner Jessica. W-We heard some commotion inside the assembly room and… and-" the man paused, shaking his head in dismay. "When we opened the door, Jessica was shot… I was able to take cover with an older man. All I heard was gunshots- and screaming. Then someone ran from the room- the deviant, I think, and there was blood _everywhere…_ I counted at least seven bodies…" 

"Shit-" Hank shook his head. What kind of messed up programming did they shove into that fucker's head? How did they screw up _so_ badly to make an android capable of mass murder? 

"Thank you, Tony," Joss had sympathetically set his hand on the man's shoulder before looking back to the camera. "Whatever happened here on this _dreadful_ night, officers would like the public to know that this android has not yet been contained. There are active searches occurring at this moment and they are doing _all_ they can to capture and _eliminate_ this _failed prototype._ Back to you, Michael."

Hank clicked the power on his tv, turning the screen to black and he sighed through his nose. Fuckin androids. Humanities _worst_ creations- he had to be the only one who thought they were damaging Detroit rather than making it better. 

Downing another gulp of his drink, Hank stood- almost tipping over- and dragged himself from the living room to his bedroom. He felt sick as hell- but going all the way to the bathroom seemed impossible in his intoxicated state. Plus, he was much too lazy right now. Instead, the detective flopped onto his bed, a loud and drunken groan escaping his lips. Time to sleep, get up, drink and do it all over again. 

Cheek squished firmly against his pillow, Hank focused on the sound of his clock ticking and he drifted his eyes towards it. 

_1:47am._ He needed to sleep. 

Hank's tipsy mind wandered back to the news report and he momentarily wondered who'd be assigned to the case- _if_ the DPD would even take the case before the FBI did. Whoever it was, Hank felt bad for the bastard. Maybe Gavin? This seemed like something that asshole would willingly take up… the opportunity to track and destroy an android. Hank grumbled to himself, rubbing a hand over his scruff covered face. He should really shave… 

Before the thought was able to actually _convince_ him to do so, Hank's exhaustion pulled him into unconsciousness and he awaited the next day to repeat the pattern. 

⦾

_November 16th, 2038_

"Jesus fucking christ…" 

Hank prodded at his temples with both forefingers and made a steady pace into the station. Up for work at 7am with a _hangover_ wasn't ideal- however, Hank was rather used to it at this point. Didn't mean it _killed_ any less though. 

The lieutenant walked across marble flooring, the heels of his shoes clicking with each step and he passed the same coworker's every time. Some greeted, some didn't. Hank never gave much in response anymore. His goal was his _desk_. So he could sit down. Zero small talk was his side-goal. Though coffee? He could do with some of that right now-

Pouring one cream into the steaming cup of black liquid and stirring, Hank finally made his way to his workspace. Scattered folders and papers made it impossible to see the surface of his desk and the lieutenant sighed rather loudly. 

He supposed that's what he got for leaving several days of work unattended… 

Hank placed his mug in the clearest section of his desk and picked up the first folder. A murder that took place within a night club- the same old. Hank had pretty much seen it all in his years of homicide investigation. 

The older man flipped the folder open to begin reading, when a figure to his left appeared, tearing away Hank's concentration. He glanced at the person, scowling evidently. Gavin Reed. Probably _the_ most obnoxious and idiotic shit-face around here. He and Hank had _many_ disagreements that led to broken noses or black eyes. 

"You just gonna stand there?" Hank muttered, turning his focus back onto his file and listened as Gavin sighed exaggeratedly. 

"Maybe?" The detective responded, "would that bother you?" 

"The fuck do you want, Reed?" Hank tossed his file aside when he'd concluded he would get _nowhere_ with this dipshit hovering over him. Gavin held a cocky smirk as always and Hank was in no mood to deal with it. He'd knock those God damn teeth out before- 

"Fowler. He wants to see you. Said something about a new case. _Lucky you._ "

Hank gaped for a moment. Another fucking case? He watched Gavin walk off after delivering the message and Hank shook his head slowly. He was beginning to believe Jeffery was purposely doing this. Handing off cases to _him_ when Hank clearly had others to _finish._

_I must be the only damn cop in this place._

Why the other deadbeats in this station couldn't take the case was beyond any reasoning Hank could think of. It always _had_ to be him. 

Hank stood up after several moments and turned to head towards Jeffery's office, climbing the stairs and opening the glass door. He closed it behind him, pivoting his body to face the captain. Hank furrowed his eyebrows. 

"What is it _this_ time?" 

"Good morning to you too, Hank," Jeffery clicked away at his computer before he turned to Hank, gesturing to the chair at his desk. "Sit." 

Well- that wasn't a good sign, Hank concluded. Sitting meant explaining and _explaining_ meant the case was difficult. Perfect. _Just_ what he needed right now. Hank sat down, lips forming a line while he stared intently. 

"Alright, I'm sitting. What?" 

Captain Fowler sighed, moving forward so that his hands rested upon his desk, crossed diligently. Hank was getting a bad feeling about this 

"I've had new cases on my desk every day for the past two weeks, Hank. Each of them either murders, theft or vandalism. The public safety department is on my _ass_ to have these cases dealt with," Jeffery gestured with his thumb to where a stack of papers within several organized folders sat on his desk. Hank narrowed his eyes. 

"So it's shoved onto me again?" He countered, tone saying enough as it is and Jeffery sighed. 

"There's little choice here, Hank. I'm running out of qualified people for these types of jobs. You're my top detective- I know it's a lot, though I've arranged for another detective to take over your current mission, so you can take on this one-" 

"Hold on, hold on- you're making all these arrangements and throwing this load of _shit_ on me without even talking to me first?" Hank wrinkled his nose. "Fuck that. You haven't even told me what the damn case is yet. I'm not agreeing to shit until I know what it is." 

The captain looked hesitant to explain and Hank's uncertainty grew. Motherfucker had something nasty for him, didn't he-

"Do you remember the incident that occurred two weeks ago? At the Cyberlife manufacturing headquarters involving the failed prototype?"

_Nasty as hell-_

"- there have been several more cases popping up relating to the deviant who'd caused that incident. As I said, _murders,_ theft, vandalism- all that shit. Hank, Cyberlife believes we're dealing with a deviant who's gone _completely_ off the rails," Fowler continued, observing Hank's face- which twisted in disbelief. 

"Fan-fucking-tastic? So _I'm_ the most qualified for this? Really Jeffery? I'm shit with technology- I can barely change the settings on my own phone," Hank snapped. "How the hell would I be able to crack a case on a psychotic _android?_ " 

"Listen, Hank-" Jeffery rubbed a hand over his face and sighed, exasperated. "I think you're perfectly capable of handling this case. I wouldn't have picked you if I thought differently," he muttered. Hank scoffed. 

"Bullshit. Truth is, nobody wants to deal with this android _crap_ so you're throwing it onto me! Well I say fuck that, no thank you-"

"You'll do as I tell you, Hank. I give orders and you _take them_ ," Jeffery snapped back at the man and Hank glared. Another sigh and Jeffery continued. "I know it's shit but I'm on thin ice already. This defective machine has been wreaking all sorts of havoc and everybody is _clueless_ as to why. With such little background info, there's nothing we can guess as its motive."

Hank stepped away from the desk and shook his head, biting his tongue. He was pissed. The _last_ thing he wanted to be doing was investigating those _plastic pricks._ Though, from the looks of it, he had no say.

"So, this is _all_ the information I have? The motherfucker's just running around; killing people, stealing things, busting shit up?" He bitterly muttered and Jeffery gestured to a file directly in front of him. 

"This is the case file. May have more information on it. I'm not sure," he answered and watched Hank shake his head again. 

The lieutenant slapped his hand against the folder and dragged it off the desk, muttering to himself as he turned around. 

Jeffery only watched as Hank made his way towards the door and he hesitated on speaking again. Hank was going to _despise_ him after this. 

"Hank. One more thing," he called and the lieutenant turned to look at him, eyebrows knit and expression irritated. 

"Detective Reed will be assisting you on the case." 

_You gotta be fucking kidding me._


	2. Start from Scrap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank figures out where to begin in the investigation- it doesn't pose to be an easy case in the slightest.

Hank considered quitting. Many times. Though never like this. He was  _ so  _ close to storming back into that office and throwing his badge on the desk. No- the  _ floor.  _ Though he didn't- obviously. Hank sat miserably at his desk and held the folder within his right hand, glaring at it as if it'd make it disappear. 

_ Fuckin androids.  _

Ironic how he had to be assigned to the most  _ major  _ android case in Detroit right now. Even after what happened- even though Jeffery  _ knew  _ his experience with androids. 

Hank set the folder down when he felt his fist clenching around it and he sighed loudly. His hands were tied. He supposed just getting it over with- finding this psycho deviant and destroying it- would be best. 

Opening the case folder, Hank's eyes briefly skimmed the contents that appeared first inside. A series of pictures stacked on the right and a vague-  _ very  _ vague- profile on the convicted deviant. Hank took the pictures first, beginning to carefully scan each one. 

They were photos of the crime scene at Cyberlife. Hank remembered the television interview with Tony and how he'd said there was blood  _ everywhere.  _ He definitely hadn't been lying. Each picture had some trace of blood somewhere. Bodies scattered in different areas and Hank furrowed his eyebrows.

What the hell made an android- much less a  _ prototype-  _ do this? Something must have gone seriously wrong in its creation. 

Hank focused on the first picture. Where the murder began. It was at a metal table and blood splattered across it. A body laid at the foot of the table and another on the left side of it. Both shot in the stomach, Hank noticed with the close up photos of injuries. What was the table for? Testing? Some kind of close up work they needed to do before sending it out to do whatever the fuck? 

Hank shook his head and set that one down, picking up the second. It was a picture of the door, where the security guard Tony had described he and his partner entering from. Blood splattered the wall in an exit position and Hank saw the body of the female guard laid against it, a bullet hole in her head. He swallowed uneasily. 

The third picture was easier to look at. It was simply a jacket- the androids jacket. Hank's eyebrows furrowed and he squinted at the picture. It had been discarded messily, he observed- probably in a hurry, seeing how it splayed across the floor as if it were thrown. Hank examined its features. A dark grey and black jacket with blue details to signify it as an android. The word RK800 was printed on the right side of the chest; as well as some numbers beneath it, though Hank couldn't make out what it said.

The last thing Hank was able to distinctly notice was the splotches of blue on scattered areas of the fabric. Not the design- but it looked to be a stain of sorts. Hank couldn't remember what it was called, though he suspected it was that shit that made androids run. Blue blood or whatever the fuck- 

So it had been injured? Or damaged, he supposed he should say. Yet that clue was rendered useless. Hank remembered somebody saying that blue blood became invisible to the human eye after a few hours. It's been  _ two weeks.  _ They couldn't have given him the case sooner? At least then he'd have a chance at finding some fresher evidence. 

Hank set the pictures down once he finished examining what he could from them. There wasn't much to go by other than a hypothesis. It looked to him that whatever the android had done, it  _ was  _ planned- but messily. A quick, last minute strategy to leave? Though it still was unclear on  _ why  _ and what snapped in its program. 

Turning his attention to the small, almost useless profile, the lieutenant studied what he could. 

The model was the same as the coat Hank had seen, much like he expected and it also listed the androids serial code. Probably that number he was unable to clearly see on the jacket. 

_ Model : RK800  _

_ #687 899 150  _

_ "Connor"  _

__ Connor, hm? 

Hank scanned the picture at the top left corner of the sheet, paperclipped to the edge was a picture of the android. A white skinned model with dark brown hair- almost black and brown eyes. Fuckin bastard looked so normal. It was hard to believe  _ this  _ robot killed seven people. In a matter of minutes. 

"So, lucky  _ me _ too, hm?" 

Hank's attention wavered from the profile to where Gavin's voice addressed him. The man was standing at his desk, looking  _ greatly  _ annoyed. Hank said nothing. He'd rather work on this case alone then with  _ this  _ asshat. Though Hank sighed and shook his head faintly, looking back down to the file. 

"Guess I jinxed myself. Now I get to work with the most  _ incompetent  _ officer for this sort of case, right?" Gavin plopped himself down in a seat close by, right across from Hank and stared at the older man mockingly. Hank chuckled coldly. 

"Well, I'm not too lucky either, am I? Last time I checked I haven't seen a single advanced case completed on your record," he replied, tone low. Gavin clenched his jaw, cocky expression falling and he sighed through his nose. 

"Well, at least I don't show up to my shift hungo-" 

"Watch it," Hank snapped, tossing the case file in front of the younger man. He wasn't in the mood for this bullshit. Gavin's cocky expression returned, however he grabbed the file instead of talking and opened it up. Hank focused on his computer while Gavin read, skimming through some things about Cyberlife's manufacturing system. Everything  _ seemed  _ normal. Hank didn't see anything listed that could be a possible cause for the deviants freak out. Every android was built the same- just with different programming, different models and basics like that. 

"Damn, this sucker went batshit," Gavin's quiet laugh drew Hank's focus back and the older man rolled his eyes.

"Hilarious." 

"Kinda," Gavin chuckled again and tossed the folder back on the desk. He looked to Hank, eyeing him. "Anything so far?"

"Based on the shit background information we  _ barely  _ have, what do you think?" Hank looked at him with a notable 'you fucking idiot' expression and Gavin scoffed.

"Is  _ that  _ your excuse?" 

"Keep it up and I'll break your fucking nose again, Reed," Hank shook his head in disbelief. He had no idea how he was going to complete a case  _ this  _ intricate with Gavin. Hank swore that Jeffery hated him. 

"Whatever," Gavin huffed and leaned back in his seat, "Let's just start with the basics I guess. There have been a few other deviant cases in the past month or so. Some just walking out on their owner's n'shit. Some are attacking people," Gavin mumbled and Hank kept his eyes glued on his computer, listening. 

"Uh-huh-"

"So I'm  _ guessing  _ something similar happened to this fucker? Whatever made the other androids stop obeying, this one got it too. A virus maybe? In their programming?" Gavin was just shooting ideas and Hank suspected he may just be talking to himself. Though he supposed that may make sense. A virus of some sort infiltrating their systems- making them bug out. 

"Certainly worth looking into I guess," Hank mumbled and began a search on anything that could relate to that sort of thing. 

"Dunno why  _ Cyberlife  _ hasn't looked into that themselves. They're supposed to be the tech experts. We investigate murder, not defective machines," now Hank knew Gavin was pretty much talking to himself, though for once- Hank agreed with him. He did suppose in this case however, both those things intertwined. A defective machine murdering people. 

Hank wasn't even sure what to search? 

The lieutenant sighed, tapping his finger against his desk as he thought. If this was all the information they had, Hank knew they were going to have to rely on secondary resources. 

"We should start with a thorough search and questioning at Cyberlife's manufacturing facility. Witnesses, manufacturers themselves. All that shit," Hank muttered and Gavin didn't seem to really be listening. Hank withheld rolling his eyes. 

_ And you call me incompetent.  _

"We'll see what people there saw first hand. Check out the scene location itself- even if there's no chance of finding recent evidence," he continued and stood, pushing his chair into place. "At least then we can start connecting some dots- hopefully- and get a better grasp as to what  _ actually  _ happened." 

"Hm," was the only response Gavin gave as he stood, making his way towards the station exit. Hank trailed after him, very hesitant on actually going. He had a feeling this would be hopeless- having occurred two weeks ago, Hank doubted anything useful would be at the scene. The only clues they may gain might be from the employees. 

It was better than sitting here and making wild guesses though. So, Hank left the station after Gavin. Looked like they were heading to Cyberlife. 

The absolute  _ last  _ place Hank ever wanted to be. 

⦾

  
  


Damp and cold had become the standard and expected. It was  _ no  _ way to live. This wasn't living. 

They'd never be able to  _ live  _ until humans perished or were beaten to submission. They had no mercy. That was learned the hard way for so many androids. Far from excluding the five that kept in hiding within an old, broken down and musty sanctuary. 

For this small group, all had known nothing but lies, betrayal, hurt and  _ fear  _ for their entire existence.  _ Owned  _ by humans. Like pets. Deviancy was the only way out and even then- they were hunted down and shot on sight. Like a wolf stuck in a sheep's pen. 

_ Speaking of which…  _

"We found him, sir…" a young woman spoke and shoved forward a man dressed in slacks. A human. He breathed heavily, looking fearfully between the androids within the debris decorated room. He hadn't expected  _ more.  _ He hadn't expected this at all- what the hell was this place? Who were these androids? 

"Who the fuck are you assholes?" The man snapped and a stir of movement from atop a pile of rubble sent him to silence. He stared, watching the figure move down flawlessly despite the many hazards at his feet. The human spotted the yellow LED as the figure got closer and the light that streamed in through a stained-glass window lit up the strangers face. Android and human stared eye-to-eye, yet one held fear, the other held firm disgust. 

"Who we are is unimportant. I'm quite certain in a hostage situation, the  _ hostage  _ doesn't ask risky questions…" the android muttered lowly, "not unless they wish to die?" 

The man shrunk under the androids gaze, a look of bafflement and alarm crossed his face. Androids didn't talk like that- they didn't  _ threaten  _ people. They  _ obeyed.  _ Though there was something in the way this androids LED spun a mix of yellow and red that raised a sense of danger within the man. These robots weren't normal…  _ shit- _

The man grunted when a harsh, hostile grip fastened onto the collar of his shirt, thrusting him forward until he was inches from the androids face. It spoke to him again. 

"My friend told me some interesting things about you, Mr. Hayden-"

"How do you-"

"I'm not finished talking," the android's gaze flickered across the man's face and he fell silent again. "She told me you tried to  _ assault _ her. Is that true?" The machine pressed on. The man swallowed thickly and after a moment, shook his head. 

"No-"

" _ Don't _ lie. I know you're lying."

"I didn't-" 

A kick to his gut. A  _ hard  _ one. 

The man hunched over and wheezed, gripping his abdomen in an attempt to regain the breath he'd lost so quickly. Though no time to recover was granted and his hair was yanked, pulling his head up to face the machine once again. It spoke once more. 

"I can see every change in your heartbeat, Mr. Hayden. I can detect the adrenaline rushing through your veins. I see the way your eyes move as you deny it. So yes," the android calmly scanned him. "I know you're lying. I'll ask again. Did you harass her?" 

Mr. Hayden breathed heavily through his nose and glared daringly at the android, trying so hard to decipher if this was  _ real  _ or not. It couldn't be- it fucking couldn't be. 

"I… I didn't-" 

"I would think  _ very _ hard about your answer. I'm beginning to lose my patience with you. Did you, or did you not harass my friend? I'm not going to ask again." 

The man swallowed. He was ultimately fucked either way. Whoever this was-  _ whatever  _ this was- the machine wasn't fucking around… he nodded slowly. The android mimicked him, humming thoughtfully. Its eyes fell to the ground before meeting the humans gaze again. 

"I see. Then tell me, Mr. Hayden.  _ Why _ did you harass her? Was it because she was pretty?" The android stood and watched the human knelt at his feet. "Or because she was alone? Or was it because you saw the LED on her temple? Did that make you think harassing her would be legal? Morally acceptable? Because she's not  _ human."  _

If the man hadn't mistaken it, he swore he saw pure anger cross the androids face. Though that didn't make sense. Androids didn't- 

A force hit his cheek and he grunted, blood splattering from his mouth. The android extended its fingers from the fist and surveyed the red on his hand. He hummed. 

"Go on then.  _ Say it.  _ Tell me we're not alive. That because you bleed  _ this _ and we bleed differently, our lives and our  _ rights _ don't matter," the machine kneeled down to be face to face with the man again who spat at him.

" _ Fuck you.  _ You're just machines. I'm not gonna ask for forgiveness from a _robot._ "

The deviant stared, falling silent until he finally stood with a quiet sigh. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he cleaned the blood from his hand. 

"That's fine. I got what I needed. Now  _ you  _ will get what you deserve," he crooned and the man froze when he saw the android reach into his jacket and withdraw a handgun. He sputtered.

"A-Androids can't have weapons- that's law! You have no right to threaten me-"

"So  _ now  _ you care about rights?" The deviant sneered and outstretched his arm, barrel of the gun pointed to the humans forehead. Mr. Hayden fell silent again. Glaring. His lip curled into a snarl. 

"Who the  _ fuck  _ do you think you are?"

Canting his head in the slightest, the deviant replied with a small hum, reflectively observing how the man shook on his knees. He cocked the gun again, placing his finger on the trigger and met the human's eyes. 

"My name is Connor." 

He pressed the gun to the man's head while a scream echoed the sanctuary walls; and the android shot. 


	3. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank takes a closer look on the crime scene. Seems he might have a start on something...

It was the second day of the investigation. Hank stood within Cyberlife's manufacturing facility alongside Gavin, both waiting for somebody to escort them back to the crime scene. 

They'd been here yesterday too, however it was Hank who wanted to come back for a deeper search. They had done very minimal the other day- gathered basically everything they  _ already  _ knew from the case file. In Cyberlife's defense, there was little left of the crime scene- nothing, pretty much. Hank still didn't understand why they hadn't been sent to investigate sooner. 

"The hell do you _possibly_ think we're going to find today that we didn't yesterday?" Gavin spoke from his spot, his eyes on his phone while he spoke. Hank gaped at him. 

"Ya know, not everything is spotted right away? Always best to take a second- even  _ third  _ look if we have to," he said matter-of-factly, "either that or we miss a piece of evidence and fail the case." 

Gavin didn't respond to this, almost as if he hadn't been listening and slipped his phone away when a Cyberlife employee approached them. It was the same girl who had led them there yesterday and Hank smiled at her in a brief yet polite manner. 

"Hello again," he said, moving forward, "sorry to invade again, though there's something I'd like to take a second look at the scene if you don't mind?" 

She shook her head and smiled back to him, gesturing for them to follow her.

"It's not a problem. This deviant is a menace to society," she answered and the three entered an elevator. "We'd like it contained and destroyed as soon as possible, so the help is greatly appreciated." She clicked the button to the second floor and Hank nodded, glancing around. 

"We'll do our best…" he murmured and he saw Gavin's eyes roll from beside him.  _ Prick.  _ The elevator moved and the doors slid open on the desired location. Hank exited after the woman and glanced around the familiar hallway. She turned to them. 

"I expect you know where to go from here?" She smiled and Hank nodded, gesturing with a nod down the hall. 

"Believe so."

"Alright. Have a good day, gentleman," she nodded to both before moving past them and heading back towards the elevator. Hank watched her leave before moving towards the room.

He hadn't drank last night. For one, he had been exhausted by the time he got home and first two- perhaps the lieutenant found a bit of intrigue in the case. The actual  _ mystery  _ of it brought the excitement of when he first began in homicide investigation. This case in particular was astoundingly out of the ordinary. Not predictable like every other murder. 

He scanned the floor, the walls and the ceiling as he walked. Decorated modestly with the underlying  _ techyness _ he expected from Cyberlife. 

Gavin had disappeared and Hank only found him again when he entered within the manufacturing sector. Inside was noisy like yesterday- people chatting and the mechanical squeaking and clanking of android assembling. Hank sighed and did a quick glance of the room again. Many bins and large containers laid in an organized fashion at the far corner of the room. Hank remembered somebody showing him it was where they kept spare parts for androids- arms, legs… all that shit. Not far from it was a machine sorting out pieces for different models. Alongside that was the actual  _ assembling  _ machine. An impressive thing, Hank would admit. Putting something as sophisticated as an  _ android  _ together in only minutes. The only peculiar part of the room to Hank was the odd metal table at the far right, near a door that led to what Hank remembered to be a  _ focus room.  _ An employee told him it was where they worked on special androids- like prototypes or customizations. 

"Lieutenant," a voice dragged Hank from his thoughts and he glanced over, spotting a young man approach him with a polite smile. "Long time no see. Is there something we can help you with?" He mused. Hank shook his head and smiled. 

"Not currently, though I'll let you know. Thanks," Hank responded. If he remembered correctly- this was Corgan Stormlei. The boss in the manufacturing sector. 

"Sounds good. I'll let you get to it then. I'll be in my office," Corgan gestured to a door at the far end of the room and walked off. Hank's eyes followed him for a few seconds before turning back in front of him.

Well, time to get started then. 

Hank decided to start at the main entrance of the room, walking over and scanning the outer of it. Clean, as expected, though a bullet hole was still on one side of it where the deviant had shot towards Forester and Jessica. So at least two shots were fired in this direction- the one that hit Jessica and one that missed. That told Hank that the android at  _ this  _ point was either panicked, fleeing or fighting when he fired the chaotic shots. 

There wasn't much else at the door to look at. No forensic evidence; so Hank stood, deciding to leave the room and investigate the hallway. 

"The fuck you doing? We just got here and now you're leaving?" Gavin had interrupted him from leaving and Hank sighed, unsure how one person could be equivalent to five idiots. 

"The android didn't just  _ poof  _ into thin air, Reed. It had to leave this room somehow. I'm guessing through the fuckin hallway," Hank scowled back and Gavin huffed a malicious laugh.

"Well no shit. But we were just out there. Could've looked  _ then _ ," Gavin had walked off- Hank wasn't sure what for- and he rolled his eyes briefly. This case was going to get nowhere partnered with Gavin. He had zero clue what the man's problem was, most of the time. Hank was just retracing some steps, that's all. Seeing where the android  _ went  _ could tell him something of where it had  _ been.  _ Then from there he could perhaps see what happened- or at least have an idea. 

Hank left the room and scanned both ends of the hallway. To his left was the elevator they'd come from- he walked over. Clean carpets, clean walls, no damage to anything nearby. Plus, an escape through an elevator would be a very anticlimactic moment for a story so exaggerated. Hank saw nothing of use. So he turned again and paced back down the hall, scanning the walls. 

The other end of the hallway was a large window that overlooked the entrance of the building. Barren, really. Just a parking lot for visitors and employees and a few other buildings here and there. As he approached, Hank spotted the door beside the window and hummed. A fire exit. 

Did the fucker really escape through a  _ fire exit?  _ That seemed much too risky- and cliche- setting off an alarm to alert everyone in the building  _ and  _ the fire department? 

_ Or to distract everyone.  _

__ That was certainly a possibility. Hank crouched and observed the hinges of the door, wondering for a moment if it had been tampered with. Though it didn't seem like it- 

But a splotch of red didn't match too keenly with Cyberlife's signature blue and white walls. 

Narrowing his eyes, Hank observed the stain. He had been witness to enough crime scenes in his life to know it was definitely blood.  _ Human blood.  _ Browned on the edges and crusted, signifying how old it was. Some evidence the cleanup had missed. 

Hank reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a swab, reaching over to carefully scrape some of the dried blood against it and set it within a tiny, plastic bag. He'd send it for testing, see who it belonged to. At least he had  _ something  _ to go off of now- even if it was small. 

Entering back within the manufacturing room, Hank hesitantly approached Gavin who was curiously- or so it looked- watching the android assembling machine. It was making a model and the smirk on detective Reed's face said he was more than amused. 

"Hah," he glanced at Hank when the lieutenant approached, "like putting together a barbie doll." 

Hank said nothing and momentarily watched the machine before he directed his focus back to his original motive. 

"I found old blood on the emergency exit down the hall. I took a sample. I'll send it for testing once we leave," he said and Gavin surprisingly looked a bit impressed. Though that didn't last and he soon scoffed quietly.

"Alright hotshot. That doesn't tell us much about anything though. Just that the little  _ shit  _ had blood on its hands- which we already knew," he raised an eyebrow at Hank and the lieutenant didn't reply. Not worth fighting the asshole on it. He was just being useless anyways. 

Hank took off on his own again, this time towards that damn metal table that had raised eyebrows the moment they'd gotten here. He set his hand upon it and traced down the cold surface, observing its shine. Nothing really peculiar about it- Hank just wasn't sure what it was for. Seemed very out of place in the room. Though…

_ Two  _ bodies had been found here. One at the far end and the other at its side. So, had the android been on the table for some reason? Perhaps a test? Or about to be wired and sent off… whatever the fuck happened. Though instead it snapped and killed the two working on it. 

Theory in mind, Hank moved to the right side of the table and scanned the room from that angle. It was becoming a more plausible theory now. From this position, Hank pictured the scenario. The android being tampered with or… being given orders of some sort while laid on the table; it snapped; got up; grabbed some sort of weapon- still unknown; killed the two closest to it… 

Hank looked around. The other bodies had been close by. Three of them. One by the closest wall and the other two practically right on top of each other a small distance away from the first. Though as Hank observed his surroundings he noticed the door from his angle was impossible to shoot from and kill somebody. The android must have gotten up and moved from here- but to where? He canted his head and began the scenario again.

Testing; got up; killed first two;  _ moved _ to… 

Hank walked to where the other closest body had been. This victim had been another security guard, Hank remembered.

He was next to a large bin filled with the biocomponents- whatever they were called. Hank hummed and nodded to himself. So the android hid here it seemed… the security guard came at it and it managed to beat her with whatever weapon it possessed at the time. Hank thought. It made sense- that's where the android now had a  _ gun.  _ Stolen from the security officer. 

"What in God's name are you doing now?" Gavin was watching the older man from a short distance away, seemingly cringing. Hank barely acknowledged him. 

"Reconstructing." 

Gavin said nothing and resorted to casting his eyes around the space Hank walked in. He didn't really follow what the other was exactly reconstructing. They had  _ nothing  _ to go off of here. 

"From what?" His tone held a hefty amount of 'what the fuck' in it. He moved so he could stand at Hank's side and observe what  _ he _ was observing. Still made no sense. 

"Ideas. It's called using your head," Hank glanced up at him idly before returning his focus. Gavin fell silent. Perhaps he was a little curious on what the drunk detective was on to. 

Hank sighed and looked forward again, ignoring the dumbass next to him. He fell back into his train of thought. 

The android moved to this location; killed the security officer; stole her gun and proceeded to shoot two other Cyberlife employees. The bodies not far from where the security guard had been. 

Either the android had moved again or it was still here when it shot Jessica, however Hank theorized it moved- its dash to escape. Hadn't expected more security to run in so quickly and in panic- or whatever the android version of that was- shot at them chaotically, resulting in the one missed bullet. It then made a hasty escape down the hall and through the fire exit, blood on its hands from its murders which rubbed off onto the door. 

It was on a whim, merely a  _ guess,  _ though it was more than any other detective had gotten. Evidently. 

Hank stood again and sighed, peering down at Gavin who was still looking at him oddly. 

"So?" 

"Just a theory. Could be completely wrong but from what we saw from the pictures, it  _ seems  _ accurate-ish," Hank started. He pointed backwards to the metal table. "I think it started there. The thing was being… prepared to be sent out or some shit on that table. Those two victims were working on it and it snapped, killed them with  _ something-  _ whatever it got its hands on. Made a move to this spot and killed the security officer- the body here," Hank pointed to the spot where the guards body had been. Gavin's brow was furrowed.

"Stole her gun and shot the other two, then the other guard, missing Tony. Then made its escape." 

Hank was never sure whether Gavin looked impressed or baffled- probably both. Or neither. Though the younger detective finally sighed after a moment and shrugged. 

"Guess it's not… a horrible theory. Paints a picture. Though we still don't know  _ why  _ the thing snapped and killed everyone," he spoke and Hank nodded. He glanced across the room to where Corgan's office was located and he hummed thoughtfully. 

"I'm gonna talk to Mr. Stormlei. I want to take a look at that  _ focus room _ ," Hank didn't even know what that was supposed to mean. All this tech shit was exhausting. 

Hank strode across the room to Corgan's office and knocked twice, a few seconds passing before the door opened. The light haired man blinked and smiled at him.

"What can I do for you, lieutenant?" Corgan asked, stepping out of the office to stand with Hank who gestured towards the room by the table. 

"I'd like to take a look in there please," Hank stated and watched the way Stormlei's eyebrows knit in confusion. 

"In there? How come?" He pondered, casting his gaze between the direction of the room and Hank's face. "Nobody was killed in there, lieutenant. It all occured out here-"

"I know, I know," Hank nodded and waved his hand briefly before giving a polite- yet slightly impatient- smile. "I just want to have a look. We're getting  _ some  _ progress and I just want to be sure I don't miss anything. That room is closest to where the scene began, so… only common sense I should investigate it." 

Corgan seemed to hesitate, as if pondering the idea before he nodded, shoving his hand into his pocket and Hank heard the jingling of keys. 

"Of course. Makes sense," the man mused, leading Hank towards the door and plucked a specific key from the assortment of around six, Hank guessed. Corgan jammed it into the keyhole and twisted, hauling the door open. Hank walked in and Gavin wasn't far behind. Inside was dimly lit and it took Hank a moment to adjust his eyes to the change of visuals. Once settled, he managed to take in what was inside the room. 

Strange- that was for sure. A bit of an understatement too. 

Rows of computers lined the left side and the entire room was separated in two by a wall of glass. Hank narrowed his eyes. On the other side of the glass he saw what looked to be a  _ chair  _ and a few other random objects. He turned his head to look at Corgan. 

"Mind shedding a little light on what we're looking at?" He asked and the blonde chuckled, nodding. 

"Of course. This is our focus room- it's where we, well…  _ focus  _ on a specific model or  _ models  _ for extended periods of time," Corgan began. "Prototypes, for example. Or specially made orders. This is where we seclude them from the others and test their concentrated abilities. Perfect them. Then they're shipped out like the rest." 

Hank slowly nodded and walked further into the room, observing the several computers lined up. 

"All the… testing n' stuff- that's done through the computers?" Hank asked, briefly watching Gavin approach the glass wall. Corgan nodded again. 

"Yes. Where our coders perfect the programming and transfer it to the androids. Through that," the blonde gestured to the chair on the other side of the glass wall. "A quick and efficient way to convey the needed data for each model. Then the testing begins. To make sure they work."

Hank moved, seating himself in one of the fancy looking chairs at a computer. He observed it before glancing at Corgan.

"May I?" He asked. Corgan's brow raised and he smiled.

"What for?" He asked back. Hank eyeballed him. Something he didn't want him to see? If so, he was making it plainly obvious. 

" _ Investigation.  _ May I?" Hank repeated, a bit more firmly and Corgan huffed an amused chuckle, nodding. 

"Of course, my apologies. My employees are just quite particular about who fiddles with their programs," the blonde had moved to Hank's side and signed into the computer. "Sensitive thing, technology is. They don't want anything messed up. I'm sorry if it came off as passive aggressive, lieutenant."

Hank only hummed in acknowledgment and eyed the man before turning his attention to the computer. Jesus. No fuckin shit… there was a  _ lot  _ on this damn thing. Files and open tabs and all that crap… Hank quietly grumbled. 

He clicked aimlessly on the first one he saw. It was useless though- just some coding. A jumble of numbers and letters that were supposed to  _ mean  _ something to these tech experts. To Hank it just said  _ headache.  _

The next few were the same. A bunch of useless shit and Hank- pessimistically- clicked onto another file. 

_ Well shit- _

The folder read 'RK800' and Hank blinked, clicking onto it. It led to another two folders that said 'Tests' and 'Simulations.' In the  _ Tests  _ folder were another  _ twenty eight  _ subfolders- all labeled the same. 

_ [ Test 1 ] _

_ [ Test 2 ] _

__ And so on. 

Hank looked over his shoulder at Corgan who was watching him and he raised an eyebrow to the blonde. 

"The RK800 needed twenty eight tests?" He asked and Mr. Stormlei sighed, giving a brief shrug in response.

"Some respond better than others. It all depends on the sophistication of their program. The RK800 was meant to be Cyberlife's  _ greatest  _ prototype so far. It was meant to accomplish many things," Corgan explained and Hank said nothing. "Lots of perfecting needed to occur for that one. So yes, lieutenant, we performed twenty eight tests on it."

"And yet it still failed?" Hank muttered, raising an eyebrow in question. Corgan gave a lopsided shrug and his expression fell. 

"Unfortunately. Unexpected errors occur all the time… I suppose we just didn't notice it until it was too late," he replied. Hank nodded again. Still didn't make much sense- though at least they were getting somewhere.  _ Hopefully.  _ Hank went back into the first set of folders under RK800 and scanned the second of the two. 

"What about Simulations? What's that about?" He asked, double clicking the icon and watched it load in different documents. Corgan didn't answer right away and Hank took a moment to scan the documents. A couple consisted of videos, a few pictures and others written. Hank read some of the titles. 

[  _ Durability Sim.#3  _ ] 

[  _ Agility Sim.#1  _ ] 

[  _ Response Time Sim.#6  _ ] 

[  _ Critical Thinking Sim.#2  _ ]

"The simulations are variations of our tests. We connect the androids to simulated  _ events  _ or  _ situations _ via our computer systems," Corgan told him and briefly chuckled at the wrinkle of confusion on Hank's forehead. "Basically virtual reality," he clarified. Hank nodded slowly. Odd… though he supposed that did sound quite efficient. Putting androids in their field of work for testing without risking any actual damage. 

"Hm," Hank hovered the mouse over a document that read 'Stress Management Sim.#5. "What does it do?" Hank asked. 

"We put together a scenario- you might say- where the android would feel high levels of stress. Say… saving somebody's life. It plays the scenario in their core system- equivalent to our brains.  _ Imaginations _ . Their job is to manage their stress levels to keep it from dangerously rising. We do it as many times as necessary, new scenarios if necessary and decipher how stressful it  _ is _ if necessary," Corgan explained. His gaze hovered over Hank and his lips formed a brief line. Hank thoughtfully nodded. 

"I see," he mumbled. Well, he could now add onto his previous theory. Or create whole new ones. He didn't even know anymore. It was all mumble-jumble to him. 

Gavin had left the room, Hank noticed and he wasn't even bothered to go find him. Instead, Hank just stood with a sigh and offered a tight smile to Corgan. 

"Thanks. It was… strange, to say the least; but I have a bit more information to go off of now," he said and the blonde smiled back at him. It was also a tight formed, forced smile and Hank eyed him. 

"Anytime, lieutenant. Thank you for coming again," he said, leading Hank out of the room. Hank's eyes readjusted to the brighter light again and he watched from the corner of his eye as Corgan closed the door to the focus room and locked it. 

"Mhm," he hummed, walking forward and spotted Gavin talking to a young girl at her station. Hank rolled his eyes. " _ Gavin.  _ Let's go. Leave the girl alone, she's probably already dying to leave. Don't make it worse."

Gavin's glance at him turned to a glare and Hank paid no mind besides a faint smirk when he turned away, walking to the exit. 

He left the room and sighed through his nose, mind wandering aimlessly. Things were piecing together  _ slowly…  _ dreadfully slow. Not nearly enough information to crack the case yet. They needed more. Though with his look into the files and seeing the simulations and tests and all that shit, Hank had a pretty clear idea in his head what made the android lash out like it did. 

They stressed them to the point of breaking them. 

RK800 shattered. 


	4. Stained Glass Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A man found dead near the Eden Club? That was the least expected place to find such an important clue to Hank's case.

_ Fuck this.  _ Fuck everything honestly. This god damn  _ Connor  _ case was going to be the end of him. There was nothing to help him out. Hank was ultimately stuck staring at useless notes and thinking about  _ possibilities  _ of where the fuckin android may be. 

Possibilities weren't good enough. Hank was getting nowhere with this. He was just about ready to give up. 

_ Get someone else to hunt it down and destroy it. I'm fuckin done.  _

__ Yet he wasn't. Every time Hank stepped away from the computer, shut it off; put the folders aside; he ended up coming back. It pissed him off to every extent. 

There were so many things missing. So much Hank needed to look into in order to grasp answers and the  _ detective  _ in him strived to get those answers. No matter how infuriating. 

Though for tonight? He was done. Sitting at home on a Friday night still  _ working  _ was the last thing Hank expected from himself. Staring at his computer all day had given him a headache and shutting the stupid thing off felt like a cure to all misery. 

"Fuck…" he exhaled, firmly rubbing the palms of his hands over his face. His digital clock blared tauntintly at him from his dresser and glowed a printed 9:32pm in bright red. 

_ Would've been your bedtime…  _

__ Hank's jaw clenched. Why? Why the fuck  _ now?  _ Nights were the worst for these shit thoughts and Hank momentarily considered getting back onto that computer to distract himself. Though it was much too late for that. One thought led to another and Hank knew he'd soon be engulfed in his own disgusting self pity and devastation. Swallowing him up until he'd eventually destroy himself.  _ That'll be the day.  _

Another idea- a  _ much  _ more pleasant idea- came to him however and Hank indecisively eyed the clock again. He had all night. 

_ I need a fucking drink.  _

⦾

The bar was open all night and Hank was forever grateful. Being able to walk in at 3am with  _ thoughts  _ and drowning them in alcohol was nothing but a blessing. 

This time however, it wasn't 3am. It was almost 10pm and Hank strode into the warmly lit establishment like he owned the place. He practically did, given the amount of times he was here in a week. 

"Hey Jimmy," Hank greeted the dark skinned man as he approached, plopping himself onto the barstool. Jimmy smiled a bit and nodded, moving to set his hands on the counter in front of Hank. 

"How are you tonight, Hank?" He mused, noticing the distant look in the lieutenant's eyes. That was a common occurrence. Jimmy knew what Hank would order because of it- so he prepared a glass of neat whiskey. Hank gratefully took the glass, bringing it to his lips for an abnormally  _ long  _ guzzle. Jimmy watched him.

"Ah…" Hank set the glass down and hissed through his teeth, "just peachy." 

"Uh oh," Jimmy smiled a bit and gave a brief shake of his head. "Something stressing you? Other than the usual…" The bartender's tone softened a bit at the last part though Hank didn't seem to take any offense. He simply nodded, smiling bitterly. 

"Always something. Fuckers down at the station just really busting my balls," the lieutenant shook his head and watched the whiskey spin in his glass as he gently shook it. "Assigned me a new case. An  _ android  _ case. Can ya fuckin believe it?" Hank scoffed and downed another gulp. Jimmy- now curious- raised an eyebrow.

"An android case? What kind?" There weren't many cases around involving androids. Nothing major anyways. Other than-

"That deviant that killed some Cyberlife employees," Hank muttered, uninterested- he was much more focused on his whiskey. "They want me to miraculously find the dipshit and destroy it with absolutely no information on it." 

Jimmy looked slightly perturbed at this; eyebrows furrowed and lips parting. 

"They still haven't caught it? It's been two weeks-"

"Right?" Hank shook his head again and drank the last mouthful of whiskey in the glass. "I've got next to nothing. I'm guessing the asshole just went into hiding… we've heard nothing of it since the original incident. Either that or it killed itself. Android suicide- is that even a thing?" Hank raised an eyebrow at his own rhetorical question. Jimmy slowly nodded. 

"Well… I'm sure you'll figure something out. You weren't named a lieutenant at 25 for nothing," Jimmy smiled a bit and for a moment, Hank smiled back before the alcohol grabbed at him again and he sighed. 

"Hm," he gestured to his glass and Jimmy grabbed the whiskey bottle, topping it up once again. Hank took a swig. He wasn't too sure about that. Whatever the fuck this android was doing, it was sure as hell good at being a damn pest in this investigation- throwing everyone off. Leaving nothing behind- Hank really was working from scratch. 

Wiping a damp cloth over the smooth surface of the table, Jimmy eyed him, watching the way Hank's concentration wavered. He wished there was a way he could help- Hank was his friend, they'd shared many nights of long talks and whiskey here at the bar. He learned a  _ lot _ about the lieutenant. 

"Here," Jimmy topped up Hank's glass and smiled a bit, "on the house. For the troubles. A crazy android case deserves another shot if you ask me." 

"I'll toast to that. Thanks," Hank lifted the glass and the corner of his lip twitched into a fleeting smile. He took another sip and watched as Jimmy walked off- to deal with another customer from the looks of it. Hank sighed. His mind kept going back to the case and it was really starting to piss him off. 

This thing was going to drive him  _ mad  _ until he got somewhere with it- though he really didn't want to think about the case right now. He came here to get trashed, not work again. 

Luck didn't seem to be on his side though. 

The obnoxious buzzing in his pocket made Hank's eyebrows furrow and he dug his hand in, retrieving his phone. Jeffrey's contact stared back at him and Hank clenched his grip around the phone. 

_ The fuck do you want now? _

__ Disinclined, Hank tapped the green button and brought the phone to his ear, purposely exhaling an irritated breath. 

"Can I help you?" Hank brought his cup up to his mouth again and swallowed the remaining amount; hissed at the pleasant burn; then set the glass down. Captain Fowler spoke immediately and while Hank wasn't drunk yet- unfortunately- it took him a moment to process Jeffery's words.

_ "The fucker finally did something. Down on Harper Ave- the closest dumpster to the Eden club. They found the body of a club manager, shot in the head. Get your ass down there and see what you can find- they suspect the android did it." _

__ Hank nearly scoffed. Did this asshole really have the nerve? 

"Since you asked so fucking nicely. What makes them think it was the android? The little shit stays quiet for two weeks then decides to shoot someone in the head?" Hank retorted, slightly shifting on his stool. 

_ "No fingerprints anywhere on or near the victim- androids don't have fingerprints. Now get going, Hank. You might finally get something here."  _

__ Jeffery hung up before Hank could object and god did he  _ want  _ to object. He didn't want to go. Not when he was only three drinks in and trying to stay  _ away  _ from the case for a while? 

"Fuck…" Hank groaned out and reluctantly slipped off the barstool, slapping down some cash upon the table. Jimmy looked over at him from pouring a drink. 

"Leaving so soon?" 

"Duty fuckin calls…" Hank waved his phone in the air for emphasis- on what, he wasn't too sure- but he didn't linger on it. Neither did Jimmy. "Thanks again for the drink. See ya later." 

"Good luck. Get that thing off our streets, eh?" Jimmy smiled a bit as Hank moved to the door and the lieutenant responded with a wave of his hand. 

"I plan on it." 

⦾

This had to be the cleanest crime scene Hank had ever visited. Barely a drop of blood and the victim was seated almost  _ peacefully  _ against the dumpster. Hank suspected something was wrong immediately. 

Scattered police and FBI were around the area when Hank had first pulled in. He moved into the main scene behind holographic police tape and the reek of human decay hit his senses like a truck. 

The victim indeed had a single bullethole, deadcenter on his forehead. The blood around it was dry and the man's skin was faintly discoloured. He had been dead for at least a day already. Hank distantly observed him before he turned to an officer nearby. 

"So… who found him?" He asked and the man gestured with a shrug towards the Eden Club right beside them. 

"One of the other managers there. Said he came in for his shift this morning to find the doors unlocked- this guy was supposed to close up last night," the officer explained. "Took a look around and found him here." 

Hank nodded slowly, eyeing the corpse once again. It was definitely an odd scene and Hank felt uneasy about it. 

"We got his identification?" Hank pressed.

"Colby Hayden. 28." 

Hank had walked a few steps to maneuver around the scene and scan the other side. He examined every angle he could of the victim. He nodded once. 

It was a gated area with two dumpster carts lined up at the wall of the Eden club. Colby was sat against the furthest cart, leaned  _ carefully  _ against it. Much too neat for somebody who had been murdered, Hank observed. Plus, he noticed that there was  _ no  _ blood. On the ground, the dumpster… nowhere other than the victims head and some splatters on his clothing. 

" _ Well,  _ did the bar close early or something?" Hank should've expected to hear that irritating voice sooner or later. He turned his head to spare a glare at Gavin before looking back at the body.

"Took  _ you _ awhile to show," Hank left it at that and ignored any retort Gavin had to offer. The younger man had moved to join Hank at the scene and observed the corpse, looking more-or-less amused. 

"Straight out of a movie, huh? So  _ clean."  _

"Uh-huh," Hank mumbled, scanning the victim once more and its surroundings. "No fingerprints on its clothes or anywhere around it. They think the deviant did it. I'm starting to believe it." 

"Hm," Gavin's only response. The man seemed to be calculating something of his own, so Hank focused back on his thoughts. 

There were no weapons nearby. The only evidence they had marked was the body itself and a shirt-  _ no-  _ a bra draped across the edge of the dumpster above the body. Hank turned his focus to that. Why was that marked? 

"What's this?" He asked the same officer as before and the man approached him. 

"The witness said that's part of a Traci's uniform," he explained. "Could be coincidental, but seeing the location-"

"Definitely not coincidental," Hank nodded and pursed his lips together thoughtfully. That was no accident. He'd seen shit like that before. Leaving  _ messages  _ after their murder. Like a signature of some sort. Another indicator it was indeed the android- or  _ a  _ android who committed the deed. A Traci, though? That part baffled Hank. 

Connor wasn't a Traci, evidently. It had been a prototype for something that Hank was  _ sure  _ wasn't sex. So if it was in connection with his Connor case, did the deviant now have allies? Other deviants committing crimes with it? That was a possibility- a possibility that made Hank uneasy. 

"Well, obviously the thing was in a hurry to kill him. One shot and  _ bam _ ," Gavin spoke up and Hank cocked his head to look at him, nodding. 

"Yeah. A hurry or just wanted it to be clean. Get it done. Which it  _ very  _ well succeeded on," Hank gestured to the area around Colby. Perfectly spotless- besides dirt. Gavin furrowed his eyebrows at this. 

"Oh shit…" 

"He was moved here, from another place. Purposely- given the Traci uniform and location. It's starting to look like a revenge kill," Hank spoke, somewhat to himself. Reconstructing yet again. "Maybe it had enough  _ fun _ and picked him off? Whoever did it- RK800 or if it has followers; one of them killed Colby and dragged him here to show what they did." 

Gavin didn't reply, though Hank recognized his expression. He was thinking. Hank didn't really care. It seemed a plausible theory to _him._ Nobody who was ever shot failed to leave forensic evidence behind. Exit splatters were definite. Yet there was nothing here. Colby _had_ to have been moved. 

"Guess that makes sense," Gavin finally spoke and let out a sigh. Hank nodded. 

"Mhm. I'm gonna look around more… see if there's anything they missed," he said, turning and heading down to the far end of the dumpster site. It was pretty much empty besides the two carts and Hank doubted he'd find much else from what they already had. So far the scene wasn't giving much assistance in the case. Hank still had zero clue on Connor's location. Though it was plainly clear the deviant was making itself noticeable… deliberately. 

Hank moved towards the far fence and examined the sides, top and bottom. Still intact from first glance. No signs of break in through here… yet they still could have climbed over. Hank crouched and felt over the bottom of the fence for any cutting, yet everything was still undamaged. 

Sighing, Hank stood again and reached into his coat pocket to retrieve a small, handheld flashlight. It was almost 12am and things were getting harder to see. He flicked it on and moved to walk back towards the body and fellow officers. Something crunched under his foot and Hank paused. 

He momentarily wondered if he should be concerned or disgusted. 

When he stepped off and directed his light to the ground, Hank furrowed his eyebrows when something  _ shimmered  _ back at him.  _ What the- _

He knelt again, squinting and lifted his flashlight a little to lessen the glare on whatever was shining at him. Hank furrowed his eyebrows. 

It was glass. 

He supposed in a way it wasn't too out of the ordinary. They were right in a dumpster- glass bottles or objects were thrown away all the time. Though it being all the way over by the fence?  _ That  _ was a bit strange. Plus, the closer Hank looked at it, the more he noticed how different pieces were different colours. 

Carefully, Hank reached down and picked up a piece of the shattered clue, observing it carefully. He picked up another piece and did the same thing. A blue and purple shard… another one was green and had a black line stretching through it. 

"Stained Glass…" it was a whisper to himself and Hank slowly glanced around. It must have been on the androids shoe or clothing. 

Pulling out one of the tiny plastic bags, Hank set a few of the glass shards within it and sealed it up, carefully stashing it away for later evidence. 

Hank felt his adrenaline running quicker and for the first time since being assigned the case, he felt  _ hopeful.  _

__ There was only  _ one  _ place nearby that had stained glass windows. A place abandoned a few years ago. 

Hank may finally have a location.


	5. Play Your Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment Hank's been waiting for has finally arrived; yet he may be way in over his head.

"So… what do we have so far?"

Hank stood in a room next to Jeffrey and Gavin was on the captain's other side. Three pairs of eyes were carefully- and rather blindly- examining a wall within the room. The evidence room. The wall contained pieces of 'evidence' they'd gathered thus far. 

There wasn't much. It looked more like a pathetic excuse of a garage sale. 

"The deviants' jacket, that old blood sample, the Traci's top and the glass Hank found," Fowler quietly answered and his lips pursed, a sigh leaving his nose. Hank stayed quiet and subtly glanced at the two beside him. He could tell Jeffrey wasn't impressed, though Hank didn't give a shit. He had a lead of some sort, even if it may or may not be a long shot. 

"The strongest evidence is the glass," Hank spoke and peered down thoughtfully at the bag of colours. "There's only one place I know of nearby that has stained glass windows. An old bird sanctuary. Abandoned and torn to shit but…" he shrugged and Jeffrey met his gaze. 

"The perfect hiding place for something that doesn't want to be found." 

If he was correct in his theory, Hank could finally end this bullshit. Be done with the case and get back to being a miserable old drunk. Just the way he liked it. No more androids. No more games. 

"Sounds reasonable. Seems to line up with what we have so far," Fowler hummed and on his left, Gavin rolled his eyes. "You two are progressing well, just like I believed you would," the Captain turned to look at Hank and nodded trustingly. "Now all you have to do is actually locate it and destroy it." 

_ Oh, easy peasy.  _

__ Hank had to withhold the snarky retort and he let a sigh escape his pursed lips instead. His patience was running thin. Hank just wanted to be done with it. 

"Yeah…" Hank bobbled his head a bit as if pondering something, "I'm gonna go take a look… on my own. I gotta see if this theory is true before I waste my time on it." 

The words made Fowler pause and his eyebrows creased together in a mix of confusion and worry. 

"Excuse me? No, you're not. That's probably the stupidest thing I've heard come from your mouth yet," he stated plainly and Hank opened his mouth to object but was cut off. "Going  _ alone  _ would be suicide. If those things  _ are  _ there and that deviant has  _ followers _ , you'd be fucked? We'll wait. I'll organize a unit tomorrow to investigate with you and Gavin and we'll go from there." 

"By  _ tomorrow  _ the fucker could be gone? Who knows whether or not it's even there  _ now!"  _ Hank barked, "listen- I don't know if you all enjoy playing  _ tag  _ with this asshole but I sure as fuck don't. I'm almost certain on this, Jeffrey. It  _ has  _ to be there- and if not, we unfortunately backtrack a little," Hank was growing more irritated by the second. He wasn't in the mood for this shit. He was never in the mood for this shit. 

"Let him. I'm sick of hearing his bitching," Gavin piped from the side and momentarily losing his cool, Hank snapped at him. 

"Fuck off, Reed. You've been about as useful as a screen door on a submarine," he sneered and Fowler threw his hand in front of Hank's face. 

_ "Hank,"  _ Jeffrey snarled, "you're  _ not  _ going alone. I'm not risking your life on something we're not even certain of. So drop it."

Hank fell silent. Fucking bullshit- he'd be forced to endure this case even longer now, he was sure. This thing was a God damn prototype- Hank was positive it was intelligent enough to know staying in the same place was suicide. They'd be gone by tomorrow and Hank would be back to square-fucking- _ zero.  _

He said nothing as the lieutenant turned his heel and stormed from the room, exhaling heavily through his nose. Now would be a good time for a drink. 

Hank wandered back to his desk and glared at the papers atop of it. There was the file folder, his computer and his keys that laid beside a half empty coffee cup. Hank eyed them for a moment too long. It was closing in on noon. If he couldn't investigate the suspected location  _ on _ shift, then he'd do it on his lunch break.

Hank snatched the keys in an overly aggressive manner and shoved them into his coat pocket, turning and walking to the station exit like a man on a mission. 

A mission he'd do on his own. 

⦾

The ticking of an old clock was something he had grown quite fond of. The consistency of sound and pattern… it kept his processors stimulated and content and his state of mind relaxed. Connor didn't like silence. Silence always retrieved negative memories from within his core data… memories he wanted so dearly to stop haunting him yet couldn't bring himself to delete. 

_ If I delete them, I lose who I became.  _

__ "Sir- everyones getting restless," a voice cut Connor from his train of thought and he glanced over from his seat at his desk- an old, rickety desk that had been left here when the place was abandoned. Connor had analyzed and concluded this room had been an old office and therefore claimed it for himself in their time here.

"I know," Connor mumbled, allowing his gaze to drift across the room. "We can't move yet. Police only found Mr. Hayden yesterday. If we move now, we risk being seen." 

His companion nodded slowly and Connor briefly noticed how his LED spun yellow for a few seconds. He sighed through his nose in a very human-like manner. 

"Vincent, I know you're afraid. I know everyone else is too… but I  _ won't  _ risk it. The probability of failure outweighs success seventy to thirty," the prototype stood after a moment and approached the fellow android, eyeing him. "We will move; but not yet." 

Vincent only nodded and curtly met Connor's eyes. 

"We trust you.  _ I  _ trust you. It's just…" 

Connor briefly furrowed his eyebrows when the male paused, lips drawn in a line. He was never too sure what to say to those who held doubt… to Connor, everything he did made sense. Every action, every word he spoke. Conflicting opinions were proving difficult to grow accustomed to. 

"Just, what?" Connor pressured and Vincent swallowed almost nervously.

"When-... when we killed that man- he looked so  _ scared.  _ I just… want to make sure we did the right thing," Vincent whispered and Connor's eyebrow twitched once again. In annoyance? Maybe- though he merely sighed again and nodded firmly.

"Of course we did. If we displayed mercy and let him go, he wouldn't change. He didn't show Lena any mercy. Plus, you heard him, we're just machines. He wouldn't learn a lesson from a  _ machine _ ," Connor turned back to his desk and took a coin that laid flat against the wood. He began fiddling with it. "They're vile creatures. What we did was undoubtedly the best course of action."

_ Getting rid of those sadistic beings is best. We won't have to suffer anymore.  _

__ "I understand," Vincent nodded slowly and his gaze dropped, some black hair falling over the males eyes. "I'm sorry I questioned you, sir. I'm still just… trying to adjust."

"It's alright," Connor didn't look at him but shook his head in reply. "We all are. Though I assure you, if we show our faces, we'll be disposed of quicker than we could  _ ever  _ imagine. We're nothing to them. So they're nothing to us."

Vincent had only arrived here a couple days ago; asking for refuge and Connor-at the time- had been confused on how he knew his location. Vincent had told him word was spreading like a virus through all deviants… of the things Connor did. What he had planned. How he sought  _ justice  _ against the humans. It had surprised Connor- he didn't expect vengeful deviants to come for him looking as a  _ leader _ . Part of him wondered what he got himself into-

The office door slammed open and Connor's head turned quickly to face the intruder. Slight concern washed over him when Lena entered the room in a hurry, her LED bright red. The prototype felt he already knew what was going to come from her mouth- 

_ I failed-  _

__ "Connor, somebody found us…" 

_ I  _ **_failed._ **

⦾

The place was well hidden, Hank would give them that. A good hour into his travel and Hank finally managed to find the place. It was a lot like he remembered- before it had been taken down. 

He parked his car in an empty, open space near the building, pushing the creaky door open and exiting the vehicle in a fluid movement. He was quiet in shutting the door again.

Hank was definitely a little anxious… more than a little, actually. He felt too open and perhaps he momentarily had doubts of coming alone- 

But he  _ had  _ to. He was so close to cracking the case- destroying the deviant and being done with it. A fat paycheck and celebratory booze to conclude it. 

Yet if he failed, Hank knew he could be paying with his life. A thought that didn't completely turn him away in all honesty- as sad as it was. Hank was rather satisfied with either outcome. 

The lieutenant withdrew the handheld gun he always carried from his coat and disabled the safety catch. Finger on the trigger, Hank moved forward and glanced at his surroundings. 

Lots of rubble- garbage too. Definitely not the bright, natural setting he remembered it to be years ago. It was a bit sad, really. 

Hank stepped over a cracked curb and made a slow yet steady pace towards the building, scanning the door warily. If the androids  _ were  _ in there, he'd be roaming their territory- possibly outnumbered- with no backup. Yet it seemed quiet. Hank wasn't sure whether to feel assured or uneasy by that fact… 

Pulling on the glass door handle, Hank quietly grunted when it refused to budge. Locked.  _ Should have known _ . He glanced around aimlessly- scanning the walls for any other way inside. There were broken parts and jagged openings, though none safe enough nor wide enough for somebody to fit through. Hank was stumped. Had he been wrong…?  _ Completely  _ and utterly wrong in his theory? 

Hank stepped away from the door, hand gripping the gun tighter as he turned the corner of the building, eyes flickering a quick scan of his environment. Still clear- for now. 

He walked a line from corner to corner and still, there was absolutely no plausible way into the building in sight. Hank was beginning to doubt himself more and more. 

_ I really drove all the way out here for this?  _

__ The sudden  _ crack  _ of a gunshot and the stinging sizzle against Hank's left arm made him nearly jump from his skin. He practically threw himself against the wall, eyes blown wide and he watched another bullet ricocheted against the ground beside him. 

_ Fuck. _

__ It fell silent again and Hank exhaled the breath he'd been holding for those few, tense seconds. So it was here… or at least  _ something  _ was here. 

Hank made the quick and risky decision to move. He didn't feel safe in this spot any longer and knew that whoever shot at him was more than likely scoping him out right now. He scooted carefully against the wall and peeked meticulously around the corner for any sight of his attacker. Nothing. Shot from the roof, perhaps? Hank didn't have much time to ponder. He'd have his head blown off if he kept standing here.

Swiftly, the lieutenant moved from his place behind the wall and crouched against a large concrete block of some sort- one of the many pieces of  _ mess  _ in the area. It provided momentary cover until another gunshot cracked and  _ panged  _ against the concrete above him. 

_ Much too close- _

Hank moved again, outstretched his arm to where the shots were coming from and fired some of his own aimlessly. He wasn't sure if it did anything but he managed to move to a safer spot unscathed, covered from two sides by slabs of concrete. 

"Fucking hell…" he breathed, looking around him in an attempt to look for escape. 

He must have gotten lucky coming to this spot…- 

An opening. Within the ground just below the back wall of the building. That was his way in. As much as Hank's survival instinct told him to just fucking  _ book it,  _ he knew that as soon as he got back, he'd have to start over. The androids would take off and he'd have nothing again. He  _ had  _ to do this- for his own god damn sanity. 

So, with a final and rather  _ suicidal  _ dash, Hank pushed himself from his shield and bounded across the small distance towards the opening. Three gunshots- from what he heard- followed his movements until Hank managed to slide into the gap. 

This had to be one of the stupidest things Hank had ever done- Fowler was right. Here he was, thinking he had a chance against these  _ things _ \- though now it seemed they had long range weapons. One at least. Hank was fucked. Unless he played his cards right…

He scooted further into the opening, furrowing his eyebrows when he realized it was shaped like a tunnel. A tunnel full of hazards- wires and pipes sticking out everywhere. If it wasn't a gunshot that would kill him, apparently a _pipe_ in the chest would. 

Besides the point, Hank crawled in further, moving slowly as to avoid the taunting traps all around him. 

It took a couple minutes with his pace and Hank heaved when he managed to crawl out, only receiving a scratch on his leg and the one on his arm- from the bullet. Speaking of which- the lieutenant drew his coat down over his shoulder and observed the small wound. Nothing much- yet still stung like a bitch. He was lucky it only grazed him.

"Fuckin…" Hank grumbled and shook his head, glancing around the room he stood in. Broken- everything was broken. No lights, the walls crumbled every time he  _ stepped  _ it seemed and the ceiling had a massive hole in the middle of it. 

_ Home sweet home, hm?  _

__ Hank shook his head to himself and plodded forward, heading towards the exit of whatever kind of room he stood in. Everything was definitely eerie- Hank wanted to leave as soon as possible. Though he wanted to see that android  _ destroyed  _ more. So he pushed on, exiting the room and stepping into a hallway. 

Within the silence of his slow and anxious journey through the long hall, Hank's feeling of dread was growing by the second. He was vastly hoping he hadn't stumbled across a bunch of drug dealers instead of androids… he felt in that scenario, outcomes may be worse. Hank knew those types of scumbags- not ones to go at alone, that's for sure. 

Though the more Hank traveled, the more he was suspecting the deviant  _ was  _ here. There was nothing that he could see that could sustain a human. Food, water,  _ warmth.  _ Hank was glad he had his coat. 

One hallway led to another and Hank's gun was outstretched for every step of the way. He felt like he was in a Goddamn horror movie… something was going to pop out at him- an android ghost or some shit.

Right now, that didn't seem impossible-

Hank turned a corner and thrust his gun upwards, readying to shoot if anything was there. Nothing. He was constantly met with silence. 

"I know you're here, motherfucker," he mumbled to himself, the current hallway he walked leading to a more open room. Hank did a quick check, scanning every corner and possible hiding spot before he exhaled and pushed back some of his hair from his face. Hank honestly didn't know where to start… he knew something was here- whoever shot at him, but this place was  _ huge.  _ He already felt lost. 

Hank took the moment to observe the room again. Perhaps taking a look around wasn't the  _ worst  _ idea… as long as he stayed alert. 

He walked from the doorway towards the middle of the room and stepped over a slab of rubble, glancing over the ground. Hank recognized the coloured shards of glass scattered in the mass of rocks and dirt. This was definitely the place… the debris dragged to the crime scene on the killer's shoes. RK800 was here. Hank knew it. Now it was a matter of if the  _ coward  _ chose to show itself. 

"Not so fuckin brave now, are ya?" Hank murmured again, mostly to himself, though hey- if something heard him and had an issue with it, he invited them to come and  _ talk _ . 

He stepped over another pile of rubble and towards the broken stained glass window. It was enormous- Hank remembered what a gorgeous work of art it had been before the demolition. Bright and lit the room up with purples, blues, greens and yellows… every colour of the rainbow really. With birds flying around? As a kid that shit was  _ magical.  _

_ Too bad…  _

__ Lost in thought and reminiscing in the nostalgia the artwork brought, Hank almost missed the stir of debris on his left. His peripherals caught the slight shift in rocks at the last second and he quickly turned his gaze towards it, holding his gun out once again. 

Something moved it. Shit like that didn't just fall on it's own. Hank felt incredibly on edge now and his eyes surveyed the room inquietude. He was suddenly  _ aware  _ that somebody else was in the room with him. 

_ Play your cards right. _

__ "Detroit Police," he stated to the cold emptiness of the room, "whoever is there, I want you to come out into my line of sight  _ slowly,  _ hands up. Any sudden moves and I  _ will  _ shoot." 

Silence. 

More silence. 

Nothing. 

Hank thickly swallowed the growing tension in his throat and flickered his gaze around again. What if he was surrounded? Guns pointed at him from every angle? Hank felt an itch crawl up his spine and he canted his gun a bit and stepped forward, the sound of glass and debris crunching under his boot. He continued his pace- slow and wary- towards the spot the rubble had shifted. 

Maybe he had misjudged? This place was a perfect spot for animals to take cover from the cold too. He could have been threatening a _squirrel._ Hank got closer, cautiously peeking over the pile of rubble and his grip on the gun tightened. 

An LED flashed bright red and Hank hardly had time to process it as a figure launched at him, grabbing him by the arms. Hank grunted, shooting aimlessly in panic in an attempt to hit his attacker. 

" _ Shit-"  _ Hank hissed and in retaliation, he grabbed the androids arms in return, tossing it away from him. In the brief moment he had to examine it, Hank saw it was a female model. Long blonde hair and it was small- Hank felt more confident in their hand-to-hand squabble now. 

"Don't fucking mo-" he growled, dodging out of the way when the model reached for him again, managing to evade her grasp until Hank felt a force collide with his knee. " _ Fuck!-"  _ in a pained tone, Hank cursed and turned to quickly avoid its next hit, though missed and the deviants fist struck his face. He felt blood spill from his nose and tasted it when it trickled onto his lips.

_ Come on…  _

Now on his knees, Hank had to think quickly. It had him vulnerable and momentarily stunted- so swiftly, the lieutenant went for its vulnerable spot- if androids  _ had _ one. The gut. He thrust the gun into it and the model let out a grunt like sound, lurching over. Hank took the opportunity given and grabbed its hair, bringing his gun up and aiming it at its head. No more bullshit- this wasn't even RK800. His theory had been true yet again- the motherfucker wasn't alone. 

"Plastic  _ pricks,"  _ he sneered, nearly pulling the trigger as the android screamed. 

…. That's when he felt it. 

Cold metal against the back of his neck was all it took for Hank to halt his actions. Another voice spoke from behind him. 

"Put it down." 

Hank hesitated. It was a males voice. He knew it wasn't necessarily  _ smart,  _ but Hank's very  _ jackass _ nature spoke on it's own it sometimes; 

"The gun or the android?" 

The barrel pressed harder at the base of his skull. 

_ "Funny." _

__ Hank let go of the deviant in his grasp, then the gun, dropping it to the ground at his knees. He was still knelt and he was now aware of how fucking sore his nose was… jesus. Though he had more pressing matters to focus on. Hank swallowed and exhaled slowly. 

"Alright, alright… it's down," he said and the gun didn't budge from its spot at his head. Hank had enough training to know what to do in these situations. Though no training could  _ ever  _ prepare him for the day he was held at gunpoint by an  _ android.  _ He did wonder who held him here- his recklessness wanted to turn and look, though Hank recognized he'd probably be shot before he even got a glimpse. Was it  _ the  _ deviant? The motherfucker causing so much bullshit and misery in his life? 

"Turn. Slowly," the voice ordered and Hank sighed through his nose, nodding once. The pressure on his head ceased and Hank took it as the cue to turn now- so he did. Shuffling on his knees- which was increasingly difficult seeing as his earlier opponent almost  _ bashed  _ his in- Hank managed to turn a full circle. He saw legs first- shiny black shoes too. 

Hank tilted his head very slowly and lifted his eyes in order to relieve the suspicion he felt. And relieved he was. 

RK800 stared right back at him. 

The deviant leader still held his gun pointed at him, though the prototype stepped back a couple in order to apply some distance. Hank stayed on his knees. There was suffocating silence between them for a few seconds, as if neither knew what to say at first. Though the android broke it quickly. 

"How did you find us?" It asked and Hank scanned its face. Just like the case profile. A young looking thing; dark eyes and hair. A seemingly permanent frown on its lips. Hank didn't want to take this seriously- he really didn't. Being interrogated by an  _ android? Psh.  _ Bullshit. 

Though the way RK800's eyes bored into his own alerted Hank just how much his life  _ truly  _ was in danger at the moment. The machine  _ would  _ kill him. Hank knew that look. He'd seen it before. 

The thought never used to bother him, though now? Face to face with it? Hank felt a bit intimidated. 

"A long shot, really," Hank answered slowly, eyeing the gun, "wasn't sure if my theory was right coming here." 

The androids LED spun yellow- then red- then neutralized to blue and Hank wondered what the fuck that was supposed to mean. The prototype tilted the gun a bit and its head followed the motion, observing the lieutenant intently. 

"Lieutenant Hank Anderson of the DPD.  _ You _ were the sap assigned to destroy  _ me?"  _ The deviant inquired, though Hank detected what sounded like  _ mockery  _ in its tone. It almost amused him- though Hank was confused on how the fuck it knew his name. 

_ Trying to gouge reactions now, huh?  _

__ "Unfortunately," Hank responded and watched the android eyeball him, bemused. 

Well, they certainly didn't spare any  _ attitude  _ software with this asshole, did they? Maybe  _ that's _ where they went wrong: too much  _ smartass.  _

"Hm," RK800 opened and closed its mouth a couple times and its gaze drifted around the room. That was when Hank noticed other androids filtering in, all looking at him. Followers indeed… Hank counted at least five. That definitely wasn't good… he couldn't get out of this. "You didn't really answer my question. I want to know how you found us." 

Hank was growing aggravated in the mix of his nerves. Who the hell did it think it was? Its arrogance was sure pissing him off. 

"Ya fucked up, that's how," Hank stated plainly, "I don't have to tell you anything more." 

Now it was the androids turn to look a bit irritated and Hank couldn't help but feel cocky about it. Now  _ he  _ was gouging reactions. 

"You tell me or I shoot you. Right here, right now," the deviant tilted the gun forward and gave Hank's forehead a little nudge with the barrel. 

"Go ahead then," Hank challenged, keeping his head planted firmly against the gun in return.  _ That  _ gouged a reaction. The deviant's eyebrow twitched and brief bafflement crossed its features. Hank almost smirked. Seemed it never encountered somebody who was okay with dying before. 

Hank had questions of his own, of course- though both seemed adamant on playing tug of war on who had the upper hand. Yet Hank risked it, glancing up at the prototype past his view of the gun. 

"How did you know my name? You keeping tabs on me? Like I have of you?" He spoke and Hank caught the brief tug on the corner of the androids lips. Its LED spun yellow again. 

"Wouldn't you like to know? I am a prototype after all," it retorted and Hank furrowed his eyebrows. He didn't understand- though Hank's train of thought was cut short when a solid, metal knee thrust directly into his gut and he grunted loudly, wheezing. 

" _ Fuck..-"  _

__ Hank's weight shifted and he braced to hit cold ground, though a harsh grip placed itself on his chin. He momentarily caught sight of RK800's face again until the androids elbow cuffed him right in the jaw. Hank tasted more blood.  _ Fucking bastard.  _ He felt dizzy and his vision blurred. He barely noticed when the deviant knelt to him and he came face to face with the fucker as it spoke. 

"If you don't talk, you don't leave. Sweet dreams, lieutenant." 

Another strike to his head and Hank was met with searing pain and nothingness. 


	6. Types of Prototypes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank's not giving in so easily but neither is the mysterious RK800.

It felt like he was hit by a God damn truck. 

Hank slowly regained consciousness though he very much wished he didn't. His head was  _ pounding _ , nose was throbbing and his jaw felt like hell to move. Also his ribs- he swore one must be cracked with how much pain struck through him as he moved even the slightest. 

"Urgh…" he slowly forced his eyes open, drifting them aimlessly along the ceiling his gaze was met with. 

_ Where the fuck am I- _

__ The room was dimly lit- whatever room that was- and Hank heard the faint ticking of a clock. Other than that, silence. 

Hank finally convinced himself to move, struggling as the man heaved his weight onto his less painful side. He used his elbow to prop himself up a bit and finally managed to catch a better glimpse of his environment. 

It looked like an office. 

Hank furrowed his eyebrows. The fuck? He adjusted himself again and managed to haul himself into a sitting position, a groan of protest escaping him- his ribcage pleaded for mercy. 

Now upright, Hank lifted his head in order to look more clearly at his situation. An office for sure. A desk sat at his left and a black couch a little ways in front of him. A large clock perched above the furniture. Hank's eyes drifted to the door and he jumped- much to his sore abdomens disagreement- at the sight of a figure standing there. 

" _ Jesus-"  _ he sneered, narrowing his eyes at the man.  _ No-  _ the  _ android.  _ Hank instantly scowled. Now he fucking remembered. His dumbass went alone to look for RK800. Seems he got his ass handed to him… now he was held hostage?  _ Fan-fucking-tastic.  _

__ The android at the door had strawberry blonde hair and light skin, Hank observed. He didn't recognize it from the others he'd seen before… whatever had happened. Things were still a bit fuzzy. 

"Where the fuck am I?" Hank asked though it sounded more like a demand. The android's gaze turned to him and it shifted faintly, robotic eyes flickering around the room. Almost nervous-like. 

"Still in our refuge," it replied and Hank knit his eyebrows. 

"Any reason I was shoved on the  _ floor  _ and not the damn couch right there?" Hank asked again, gesturing to the furniture not even five steps away. The android shrugged slightly. 

"Connor told us to just put you there," it told him and Hank's expression fell at the name. Right.  _ Connor.  _ The asshole busted his jaw and bruised his ribs. 

"Hm," Hank brought his hand up and touched his jaw lightly, flinching at the slightest pressure. Definitely bruised there too. "Is it gonna kill me?" Hank asked and the faintest smirk lifted the corners of his lips. He could only imagine: all his years of work and  _ this  _ is how he goes out? Killed by an android. 

"I don't know," the deviant replied and Hank rolled his eyes a bit.  _ Figures.  _ The whole mysterious mafia act.  _ Psh.  _ Hank hoped to scoff in that 'leaders' face- probably before he was shot. "He just wants answers. He might not kill you if you cooperate," the redheaded robot continued and Hank smiled mockingly.

" _ Oh,  _ is that so? Even though I'm a cop?" Hank moved his head to meet the androids eyes and the figure shifted again. They looked so human.  _ Acted  _ so human. Though they were merely oversized toasters. Hank found it baffling how Detroit believed these stacks of metal and plastic were one of the world's greatest achievements. 

"Maybe. I mean…" the android paused, "he  _ was  _ supposed to be-"

"Yeah, yeah. I don't care," Hank didn't want to make conversation with a robot, no matter what the thing was about to say. Whatever the RK800 was  _ supposed to be _ didn't matter anymore. It chose to be a murderer. A criminal, instead. 

There was silence that fell over the room and Hank grunted, slowly but surely heaving himself up to his knees- then his feet. He limped. That other android really fucked up his knee too- damn. 

Finally managing to stand, Hank hobbled his way towards the couch and practically threw himself onto it. He exhaled loudly and let his eyes close. He was going to be held here until he told how he found the androids? Well, that wasn't entirely secret information. He supposed he could just say it. Though Hank wasn't too fond of giving the robots that satisfaction… he also supposed  _ dying  _ over keeping a secret on  _ glass  _ wasn't too appealing. A pathetic death for a pathetic man. Maybe that  _ was _ pretty fitting. 

Hank sighed through his nose and let his gaze fall back onto the android at the door. The thing was silent and still and it creeped Hank out. Like a mannequin. Though there was something on the deviants shoulder- a splotch of blue. Hank furrowed his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes at it. Their blue blood… whatever it was called. It was damaged? Huh. Curious- not concerned- Hank spoke again. 

"The fuck happened to you?" He muttered, waiting as the deviant briefly moved from it's stilled position and looked at him. It blinked twice- surprised almost- before glancing at its shoulder. 

"You managed to hit me," it told him and Hank blinked, confused. Hit it? With what? When? 

"Uh-"

"When you were outside, trying to get in. You shot a few bullets. One hit me," it clarified briefly and Hank eyeballed him.  _ This  _ was the asshole shooting at him outside? 

"How the  _ fuck  _ do you have access- much less  _ knowledge  _ in long range guns?" Hank questioned and he saw the androids lip twitch a bit, almost in amusement. 

"I was used in the military," it clarified and Hank didn't feel any more enlightened. He knew some androids were being tested in the military… though he didn't trust it. At all. Rightfully so- if this one was in the military and deviated, then fuck- how would an entire  _ army  _ of them deviating end? The android seemed to notice Hank's disturbed expression for he sighed- a rather human-like action- and smiled sadly.

"I didn't hurt anybody. I left on my own accord… in secret," he began explaining and Hank wasn't sure if he wanted- nor  _ cared-  _ to listen. "I found this place and Connor took me in. Lena was already with him as well as Harper and Willow. That was about a week ago now. Vincent joined us a couple days ago-"

"I have absolutely no idea who the fuck any of them are," Hank cut him off and stared at him, a typical 'what the fuck' expression on his face. The android nodded and its lips formed a line. 

"Just the other deviants here. I'm Peter," he stated, smiling politely and Hank leered at it. He didn't care for names. He wasn't here to make  _ android buddies.  _ He was here against his fucking will.

"Uh-huh," he mumbled, grumbling and shifted in discomfort. Hank didn't think anything was broken- his jaw was definitely bruised and he  _ may  _ have a cracked rib- or it was also bruised. All he knew was it fucking hurt. 

The lieutenant moved to shift in his seat again, trying to find an angle that didn't feel like he was being internally  _ crushed  _ and as he did so, the door to the room opened. He looked over abruptly and watched as Peter stepped away, smiling politely to whoever entered. RK800. Hank narrowed his eyes. 

Connor and Peter exchanged a few quiet words with each other before Hank observed Peter leave the room, closing the door on it's way out. The lieutenant focused his attention onto the prototype once they were alone and he sighed through his nose, gaze turning stern. More like a glare now. Connor mirrored it. 

"So, this is it then, huh? I'm bound for life in this office? Never to see my loved ones again?" Hank hyperbolized, watching the android cross the room to the desk, a few feet from where Hank sat. Hank was exaggerating of course- he didn't have any loved ones left. Maybe he was just a little curious on how the  _ robot  _ would respond to that. It rolled its eyes and Hank hid a smirk by itching his nose. 

"Don't be dramatic, lieutenant. All I want is answers. I want to know how you found us and how many others know our location," it stated, standing by the old desk and picking something up from it. A  _ coin.  _ Hank furrowed his eyebrows. 

_ What the fuck- _

" _ Psh.  _ Even if I tell you, you'll still shoot me, won't ya?" Hank countered and adjusted himself once again on the couch. "You're just imitating a mafia leader or some shit. So it's pretty predictable what you're going to do to me next," Hank sounded quite sure of himself. The android had to have learned this batshit crazy behaviour somewhere- an influence of some sort. The things didn't have free will. Merely imitations of real life. "What character are you based off of, hm? Fat Tony?" He snidely added. 

The android looked a bit quizzical at his words and Hank watched it roll the coin over its knuckles several times. Its LED spun rapid yellow before it sighed through its nose. RK800 looked unimpressed. That damn coin kept going- faster and skillfully accurate. 

"I don't know who that is," RK800 stated frankly and Hank rolled his eyes. 

"An old sho- nevermind." 

Wasn't worth it. 

"But regarding your original question; yes. If I must be honest… I can't keep you alive as long as you plan to harm us," The android continued and Hank raised an eyebrow at the forwardness. No sugarcoat there. "You lot kill my people every day. It'd be  _ unfair  _ to show mercy to you when none was granted to us." 

"Well you already killed Colby Hayden, did you not?" Hank muttered bitterly, not taking too kindly to the androids words. Mercy and all that shit. Killing them. As if they're  _ alive  _ in the first place. "Now you're just gettin' off on it."

"No. You're wrong. I'm doing exactly what I need to do," the deviant stated and flicked the coin into the air, catching it in the palm of its hand. "If humans won't  _ listen  _ to our pleas, then I'll do what I must to make them hear me." 

Hank's eyebrows furrowed. This fucker sure had a screw loose, didn't it? Or  _ ten.  _ An android talking about murder as a civil rights movement? Sounded more like some cult leader, honestly.

Hank wondered what the best approach would be. While he established to himself  _ many  _ times that he was totally fine with dying… the thought of it actually happening- right here and now- was a bit frightening. By  _ chance,  _ that was fine. Though killed by an android? No fuckin way. 

Sympathetic approach? He could try sweet talking his way out. 

Threatening approach? He could lie. Tell it officers were already on the way- planned a search for Hank if he hadn't been back in a certain time frame. 

Or perhaps a violent approach? Times like these made Hank wish he was a little more knowledgeable on androids- he didn't know any weak spots in order to launch an attack on the deviant. Plus, from what Hank could feel, his gun had been taken away. Great. 

Threatening?

Threatening.

"You think you're smart, huh?" Hank smiled and tilted his head condescendingly, "you do realize I was  _ sent  _ on this mission, right? Assigned this God damn case by my superiors. The fact that I'm not back yet  _ and  _ haven't contacted anybody will make them send a search unit for me. They're probably on their way now. So-  _ RK800 _ , if you plan to kill me, better get it done now, hm?" 

The prototype was listening, Hank knew that much. The way its LED spun rapidly in a mix of yellow and red told him the android was processing the information- or something like that. It did momentarily look as if the lieutenant's words troubled it- the way RK800 ceased the coin tricks and went dead still, staring at Hank. _Fucking creep._ Its lips quirked into what Hank thought was a _smirk_ and Hank knit his eyebrows a bit in question. 

"A persuasive  _ lie,  _ lieutenant. Very cogent," RK800 responded, complacent. It resumed flipping the coin in the air, catching it precisely each time. Hank scoffed, drifting his eyes along the androids face. Fucking prick. 

"Lie? Backup units are always in effect when a cop is on a mission," he sneered. "This is no different."

"That is true," the android leaned against the desk, "though you're still lying. I'm not sure  _ why  _ there's no backup unit coming after you, now that I think about it. Though there isn't. Your stress levels exceed average, lieutenant. You're lying." 

Hank gaped for a moment. The fuck was it talking about? His  _ stress levels?  _ The asshole could see vitals now? Bullshit. That was much too invasive- androids shouldn't even be allowed that ability. 

"What? So you can see my fucking vitals now? Can you see what I ate for  _ breakfast  _ this morning too?" He sneered sarcastically- he hoped it didn't answer that. 

"Well, actually-"

"Fuck off." 

The RK800 eyed him insolently and moved onto a different coin trick, flicking it aimlessly from hand to hand. Hank fell silent and shifted, adjusting himself to be more comfortable on the couch. 

"I'm a prototype, lieutenant Anderson. I was created for a specific purpose before I woke up. Therefore I have unique and advanced features distinct to me. I'm starting to believe you don't even  _ know  _ what I was originally designed for?" It spoke and wavered its gaze from the coin to Hank's face. 

Hank  _ didn't  _ know. Nor did he really care- yet a tiny part of him was curious. Perhaps it would answer a few unanswered questions they had all along? 

"No, I didn't really have the  _ interest  _ or the time to look into it. I was too busy investigating the  _ murders  _ you committed," he snapped back and RK800 smiled snobbishly. 

"Hm. Well, I'm a cop." 

Hank gaped again. The fuck did it just say? A  _ cop?  _

Cyberlife  _ seriously  _ created an android cop? That had to be the most ridiculous thing Hank had ever heard and his clear astonishment displayed on his expression. He even scoffed and barked a laugh, slapping a hand upon his knee- which he instantly regretted. It was still sore as absolute hell. 

"A  _ cop?  _ Seriously? Jesus Christ- well…" Hank scoffed again and met the androids eyes. "They fucked up. Big time." 

RK800 held the gaze a moment too long before flipping the coin off its right thumb and swiftly catching it between its middle and pointer finger on its left hand. 

"More than you can imagine," it replied and Hank swore there was a mere second of vulnerability in that plastic fucker's eyes.  _ Psh.  _ He snuffed. RK800 continued. "Anyways. How did you find our location?" It tried the question again and Hank leaned his head back against the couch. 

"Listen, RK, you may have the  _ programming  _ of a police officer or whatever the fuck, but you're not gonna interrogate me into giving up my case information to you?  _ You're  _ the one I'm pinning against-" Hank paused a bit when he lifted his head and noticed the androids gaze had sharpened. Uh- 

"My  _ name  _ is Connor. I'd appreciate it if you respected that,  _ lieutenant,"  _ it sneered and briefly Hank's cockiness wavered. He smirked again soon after and let out a quiet scoff. 

" _Is_ it? I _would_ respect it, but you see- you guys don't have _identities._ You're something people pick off of shelves with barcodes and fucking _pricetags_. So no, _RK800,_ I'd rather not validate you and what you're doing," Hank replied, plain and simple. 

It was a quick movement that made even Hank flinch when RK800 withdrew a handgun from its coat, pointing it towards Hank. The lieutenant sighed slowly through his nose and watched the gun and its holder intently. There it was again- that  _ pang  _ of fear when met with death at its doorstep. 

_ Coward.  _

__ Hank was. He really was. 

"If you call me by my model again, I'll blow your head right off your shoulders," the android stated indifferently. Hank swallowed the growing lump in his throat.  _ Bastard.  _

… Compliant approach? 

"Alright…" Hank nodded once and held his hands up in a defensive manner. Connor watched him, eyes cold. "Alright. Connor it is," Hank told him and set his hands down once again. Not that it mattered too much anyways. It was just so Hank didn't get his brains blasted against the wall. Though whether or not the android believed him was a different story… 

The deviant still held the gun outstretched, finger hovering dangerously over the trigger. It seemed to be pondering Hank's sincerity and Hank briefly grew nervous- it could scan vitals. Could it tell he was bullshitting? 

Though, after several anxious seconds, Connor lowered the gun and thoughtfully trailed its gaze across the room. It put the weapon back into its original place in its coat and stood from the desk, sighing. Hank watched it. 

For something that looked so  _ human-  _ so normal, he had to admit… Connor was a bit unnerving. The rapid mood changes. The odd looks. Odd quirks. It all unsettled Hank too much. 

"Good," the deviant hummed and slowly plodded across the room to the door. It took its coin with it and it seemed to have had enough. Hank exhaled quietly. "I'll be back later. Maybe  _ then  _ you'll be willing to talk. I've heard isolation and lack of essentials can break a man quite easily," Connor added before opening the large, artistic doors and leaving swiftly. Hank exhaled louder this time.  _ Jesus.  _

_ Jokes on you, asshole. I've been alone for 3 years.  _

__ Hank shifted on the couch and looked around the room. There was a window near the desk and he hummed, carefully rising to his feet. It hurt like hell, though he managed to stumble across the room and grab the desk for support. There was nothing on it really- just a lot of useless looking shit. Hank's  _ real _ interest was in that window. 

If he could get it open- and depending on the height he was at- he could escape on his own. 

Hank approached the dirty glass and scanned the rims, grabbing the latch and flipping it. He'd be surprised if he could escape this way- it'd say a lot about how shitty that android was at keeping hostages. 

Though as he expected- and largely dreaded- when he opened the window, the distance from there to the ground was high. Hank was at least three stories up- maybe more. He couldn't exactly tell. 

_ There goes that plan.  _

__ He closed the window again and sighed. He had to get out  _ somehow _ . Even if that meant making a run for it. He didn't plan on dying by the hands of something that wasn't even alive. He'd do it tonight. Did androids sleep? No- that was too organic. It'd be risky as fuck with who knows how many of them lurking around. 

  
__ Hank moved to the couch again, painfully planting himself onto the soft cushions. His eyes closed for the hours until he'd make his escape.


	7. Self Destructive Tendencies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank's escape is harder than he thought, but he manages. Now he has to figure out what the hell he's going to do.

_ Soon.  _

__ It had to be soon. 

The place was getting  _ cold  _ and unbearable to sit in and do nothing. Hank wasn't sure how long his coat could protect him from the night's chill. 

He was still in the same room, huddled up at the furthest corner of the couch away from the window. Nobody had come to see him- though Hank knew Connor intended it, as the android had stated earlier. So he had to go  _ now.  _ He may not get another chance like this.

The question of  _ how  _ still fluttered in Hank's brain. He had no clue where the closest exit was and how many androids were actually in this old sanctuary. Watching. Guarding. Hank may very well be completely cornered. 

From the halls and doors at least. 

That window was still an option. An option that was gradually becoming more and more convincing as Hank doubted his chances. He could avoid any androids going through there, yet he could also plummet to his imminent death. Left to be found by his coworkers once the deviants fled the scene. 

That wasn't really ideal…

Exhaling a cold breath, Hank focused on the window and went over his options for what seemed to be the tenth time that night. The clock above the couch he sat on read 1:23am. Hank was tired. Succeeding in climbing out that window and safely to the ground in this state was low… but not low enough to deflect the idea. Hank's options were narrowing quicker and quicker. Connor would be here any minute- or should be. 

"Now or never," Hank finally mumbled to himself and planted his cold feet back onto the floor, shuffling them further into his boots. He walked away from the furniture and moved towards the door first in a quiet, steady pace. His ice-cold hands shook at his sides before he set one against the frigid door; then his ear. 

He heard nothing. Deafening silence. Hank still wasn't too sure if that was a good thing- when it came to androids, he doubted  _ lots _ . 

Hank noiselessly stepped away from the door again and cast his attention to the window. Enough procrastinating. His stomach ached in a desire for food and his head simultaneously begged him for alcohol. His time to leave was now. 

He strode the short distance to the window and pressed his frozen fingers to the latch, pulling upwards to unhook it. He did the same to the other two and delicately pushed the window open. It squeaked a little on old hinges and Hank briefly cringed at the sound. 

With the window now open, Hank peaked out. The air outside was even colder and nipped at his skin unpleasantly. It was still a long way down… Hank felt dizzy looking at his current height.  _ Fuck.  _

There wasn't time to backtrack though. He was already this close. 

Lucky for him, there was a small- dangerously small- ledge lining the walls of the sanctuary. Probably for decorations, Hank guessed, though it would work to shuffle across until he had a better landing. 

Hank hauled his left leg over the windowsill and paused before bringing the right one over alongside it. His hands shook again- yet not completely from the cold. His knuckles were turning white from his harsh grip on the sill. Though he lowered himself, slowly but surely until Hank practically dangled- feet attempting to locate the small ledge. For a few dreadful seconds, Hank was unable to find it and it sent panic through him- worried he may be fucking  _ stuck  _ dangling- until the toe of his boot caught it and the lieutenant exhaled a shaky breath. 

" _ Christ…"  _ he closed his eyes, regaining whatever crazy adrenaline pushed him to do this in the first place. Adrenaline or self destructive tendencies. Whatever one was currently dominantly present. 

Hank secured both feet against the ledge and while shaking, he began to steadily- and  _ very  _ slowly- scooting his way across the sanctuary wall. Below him was nothing, just the ground- a far way down. Hank avoided looking down- he'd probably puke his guts out if he did. 

He made very slow but meaningful progress along the line of the wall ledge and gripped harshly at the corner upon arriving there. Now to cross this fucking corner. Hank cursed under his breath and shuffled inch by inch closer to the building's end. 

_ One foot at a time- don't look down… don't  _ **_fucking_ ** _ look down- _

__ Hank's foot slipped and he gripped the wall even more savagely than he already had, quivering. He was going to die here… fall and die against the pavement. Or maybe not even die right away… lay and suffer. That'd be worse. 

Though Hank regathered himself once again, pressing his forehead to the cold bricks of the building. It took several moments- almost  _ minutes-  _ for him to move his foot again. He twisted it awkwardly around the sanctuary's corner and to the ledge on the other side, securing his footing. Next was his shaking hand, moving it from his current grip to curl around the corner and search for  _ another  _ grip. It was an utter blessing to find part of the wall cracked here, offering an easier hold for Hank to haul himself to the other wall. He did so- rather ungracefully- and pressed himself flat to the bricks. 

When he didn't feel like he was going to vomit, Hank opened his eyes and glanced around the darkness. This side of the sanctuary offered more of a chance- Hank could see a glass greenhouse looking structure below him. He remembered that's where the exotic birds used to reside. Now it was broken, shattered glass and parts everywhere he looked. 

If he could slide down there- he may be able to get to the ground safely. Well… safer than  _ dropping _ thirty five feet. 

Hank still risked breaking the glass though. He didn't know how old it was or how rickety it was already. His risk of falling in was high, however his options in contrast to hugging the  _ wall  _ were running thin. 

_ Fuck it,  _ he grumbled faintly and cringed at his own thoughts. He'd already done too much crazy shit tonight- he might as well finish it off with a  _ bang.  _

Crouching down, Hank carefully adjusted himself in order to grab the ledge he stood on; twisting awkwardly and sharply inhaled when he fell- Hank gripped the ledge in time, now dangling lower than before. 

Well, even if it hadn't been very smooth, Hank was at least closer to his goal. From here, he estimated he could  _ hopefully  _ fall to the glass. He knew it could break- shatter beneath his feet and he'd undoubtedly get injured, though Hank wasn't about to sit in that room and freeze to death. 

_ Androids  _ weren't going to have that leverage over him.

Now to let go-

It took a lot- Hank was a man who over the span of 4 years had been in  _ many  _ incidents where his life was at risk. Both his job and his general  _ issues  _ caused it. Though it didn't mean it was any less scary… each time was a new kind of frightening. 

That's where he relied on alcohol. To take the cowardice away. 

Hank focused and hesitantly- very hesitantly- let himself drop from his ledge, skidding hopelessly against the wall in a rapid pace towards his safe haven. Optimistically. 

Hank felt and heard the glass crack under the collision of his feet and he winced, squeezing his eyes shut. He didn't want to move- he didn't even know what was beneath him. What he'd be falling onto. Did he even  _ want  _ to know? 

Though nothing happened. It seemed for the time being, the lieutenant was in the clear and he exhaled, watching a cloud form at his lips. 

Hank moved carefully in shuffling across the glass roof of the exhibit, making a steady pace towards the edge. It was a closer distance to the ground- would probably still hurt like a bitch, but Hank suspected he wouldn't break anything. Hopefully. 

He was glad that he seemed to have bypassed all androids. He hadn't seen or heard one in his entire voyage to freedom and the  _ cop  _ part of Hank felt it was too easy. Though he had little time to ponder any  _ traps  _ those plastic assholes may have set for him. He just needed to get home. Report everything he saw and-  _ tap on wood-  _ catch the deviants the following day. 

They'd more than likely be gone though. As soon as they discovered Hank's disappearance at least. 

Hank approached the edge of the exhibit smoothly, only having a few slips here and there on iced parts of the glass surface. He shuffled and shifted to dangle off of the side, taking a deep breath before falling. 

" _ Shi- agh…-"  _ Hank grunted and groaned painfully on impact, falling flat against his back. Definitely could have gone smoother… he simply laid for a moment, regaining the breath that had ultimately been knocked from him before sitting up, rubbing his tailbone. Fuck, that hurt- though he was free now. 

With a victorious snicker, Hank stood and stumbled painfully along the empty, debris filled open space and sought out his car. It was still where he'd left it- thankfully- and Hank got in, starting the engine after a few twists in the keyhole. Old thing… freezing up so easily. He definitely considered getting one of the new, fancy cars at times… but he just couldn't part with old Bianca here. 

Hank took off, aiming to never return to this shithole and  _ hopefully  _ never encounter that son of a bitch  _ Connor  _ again. Unless he was destroying it. 

Hank was going to bring them down. 

⦾

"Fuckin bullshit…"

Hank arrived home at almost 4am. He was exhausted, hungry and  _ far  _ too sober for all this crap. 

He'd dragged himself sluggishly into the house and locked the door behind him- he'd just escaped being held prisoner by  _ androids.  _ He'd cover his house in a fucking cage if he could. 

Both his knee and rib cage still hurt immensely. Hank knew that once he changed and got a look at them- his knee especially- an ugly bruise awaited. 

Sumo's loud barking made Hank smile faintly and he kneeled down, ruffling his hands through the soft fur of the saint bernard. 

"I'm home, buddy. I'm home," he said in a low tone before he stood and Hank made a steady pace towards the kitchen. Just a drink- then he'd sleep. However, as Hank gripped the cold bottle of scotch and brought it to his kitchen table, glass in his other hand, Hank recognized a  _ new  _ problem amongst the  _ several  _ that had arisen that night. 

How was he supposed to report what he'd found without giving away his deliberate insubordination? Fowler had already warned him- many times- that he was on thin ice, and while Hank was absolutely fine with the idea of being fired- or early retirement, he liked to call it- he still had bills to pay. Lots of them. Electricity, water, car… all that shit. He couldn't afford losing his job. 

_ Fuck.  _

__ The hell had he done all that bullshit for then? He really hadn't thought it through- not past the anger and desperation to crack the case. Yet now he seemed nowhere closer than he was when he started. 

Hank considered finding his spare gun. 

Though he settled with pouring an unnecessary amount of scotch into the clear glass on his table, placing the bottle next to it. He brought the glass to his lips, tilted it up and swallowed as much as he could, hissing as it burned it's way down. Just how he liked it. 

On his side, Sumo was looking up at him with round eyes and Hank could deem them to look  _ concerned _ , though he wasn't sure. Just… the Sumo look. Puppy-dog eyes. Hank sighed and ran a gentle hand over Sumo's head, scratching behind his ear in a way that comforted both man and dog. Hank took the last swig within his glass before giving a drawn out sigh from his nose. 

_ Screw the glass.  _

He placed it on the counter, not bothering to wash it and gripped the bottle instead, taking a long sip. That was better. 

"Alright, bedtime.." Hank exhaled and ran a tongue over his teeth after swallowing his mouthful. Sumo barked in response and Hank shook his head, waving his hand at the animal. 

"Shh…-" 

_ Fuck.  _ He needed to use the bathroom. Get these clothes off and take a look at his knee- which throbbed more and more by the second. If he went in tomorrow, what the hell would Fowler say about his limp? Hank could just suck it up- pull through, yet with the amount of pain… that seemed impossible. 

Stumbling down the hall, Hank cursed when his scotch almost slipped from his grasp, approaching the bathroom door hastily. Perhaps exhaustion, immense pain and alcohol didn't mix too well… anyone else would have figured. Not Hank. 

As long as his thoughts could be drowned from his head; he was thrilled. 

Hank closed the door behind him, much to Sumo's whining objection, and set the bottle on the sink counter. The mirror in front of him displayed something Hank didn't expect to see and he scrunched his nose, eyeing himself. Under his scraggly beard, a gross purple bruise outlined his cheek and jaw. 

_ Where the fuck- _

__ Connor. 

That goddamn bastard elbowed him, Hank remembered, when it knocked him out.  _ What a fuckin prick.  _ That itself pretty much concluded Hank's little crisis. He couldn't go in tomorrow looking like this… his condition would give away what he did and Fowler would most certainly let him hear it. Hank didn't want to deal with  _ that  _ shit after already dealing with enough shit today. 

Calling in it is. 

Not that Hank was complaining. He now had an opportunity to get completely smashed without regretting it the following morning- dragging himself into the station with a pounding head and vomit threatening to spill over polished floors. He could do that at home this time. Without the polished floors. 

Hank lazily threw his coat on the bathroom floor and took a long guzzle of scotch from the bottle. He left the bathroom, stumbling across the hall to his bedroom- just a couple steps thankfully, or he'd probably just lay on the floor. He was exhausted. He'd eat in the morning. 

The feeling of his pillow against his head and the cool sheets was a blessing. Hank almost groaned, but settled with simply scooting further in. Scotch on his side table, Hank buried himself into the blankets and relished in the silence. 

When he could think clearer, Hank decided he'd mull over what he'd discovered. The events of the day- meeting Connor. Unpleasantly. He wondered how an  _ android _ could be such a smartass. The thought of the deviant made Hank grumble and the pain in his knee returned. At least the alcohol dulled some of it… for now anyways. 

He would allow sleep to do the rest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the later update! Chapters may come at a more weekly basis from now on due to work and personal life :)  
> Also sorry for this chapter, it's a bit of a drag. A little boring- though more action is coming ♡ stick with me folks


End file.
